The Joy of Nothing: Finding Fulfillment in a World of Everything
Nothing makes me happy. I love nothing!
The Mystery of Everything and Nothing
Full fridge — nothing to eat.
Full closet — nothing to wear.
2000 channels — nothing to watch.
In a world overflowing with options, why do we often feel strangely unsatisfied? We scroll endlessly, stand in front of stocked pantries unsure of what we want, and flip through channels only to turn the TV off.
With so many options to choose from, people find it difficult to choose at all. And even if they do manage to choose, they are less satisfied with their choice than they would be if they had fewer options to choose from. — Barry Schwartz, The Paradox of Choice
This paradox of having everything, yet feeling like we have nothing, is a defining feature of modern life. It’s not just about indecision or distraction. It points to a deeper emotional state that many of us struggle to name: boredom.
One Friday, I was visiting a local high school on behalf of a nonprofit organization. I asked a student if he was excited about the weekend. He replied flatly, “No.” His tone was quick, almost irritated.
“They’re so boring,” he added. He preferred the weekdays. Being at school was better than being at home, likely alone, or at least alone in the interests he had amidst his family. He didn’t hate the weekends. He hated boredom.
I related to that feeling. As an only child, I sometimes felt the same. But weekends? Being away from school? Bring it on!
Understanding Boredom
Boredom gets a bad rap. We treat it like a problem to fix: grab our phone, grab a snack, turn on a show. But boredom is more than having nothing to do. It’s a quiet signal that maybe we’re not as engaged, present, or fulfilled as we’d like to be.
Psychologist Cynthia D. Fisher described boredom as:
an unpleasant, transient affective state in which the individual feels a pervasive lack of interest and difficulty concentrating on the current activity.
Let me rephrase that so people like me can understand it:
Boredom is that uncomfortable feeling when nothing seems interesting, even if there’s stuff to do.
When you were kids and told your parents you were bored, the first thing out of their mouths was: “I can give you something to do!”
You knew it was going to be work, so you quickly responded, “I’m not bored, I’m not bored,” then you and your boredom ran into your room, closed the door, and waited to see if you were followed.
What’s missing here?
In today’s hyper-connected world, boredom feels even more uncomfortable. We’re used to being entertained or at least distracted. When that stimulation fades, we’re left with a silence that can feel unsettling.
But maybe that silence isn’t a problem. It’s a prompt. A nudge to ask: What’s missing here?
That student I met who dreaded weekends wasn’t just bored. He was isolated. His boredom wasn’t about a lack of activity, but a lack of connection and meaning. I’ve felt that too. It’s the kind of boredom that whispers, “This isn’t it.”
Ironically, the more we try to escape boredom, the more it follows us. Because boredom isn’t always solved by doing more. Sometimes, it’s an invitation to pause, reflect, and reconnect with ourselves, with others, or even with nothing at all.
Pursuing Happiness
Author Kendra Cherry defines happiness as joy, satisfaction, contentment, and fulfillment. These aren’t fleeting experiences. They’re signs of a deeper, more grounded life.
We chase dopamine, mistaking busyness for a sense of purpose. Striving to fulfill a purpose is important, but happiness can also be found in doing less.
It is not daily increase but daily decrease. Hack away the unessential. The closer to the source, the less wastage there is. - Bruce Lee
Bruce Lee’s words remind us that clarity and fulfillment often come not from adding more, but from removing what’s unnecessary. What if happiness isn’t found in doing more, but in doing less?
My friend and favorite neuroscientist, Sabrina Ahmed, says:
"When your system is saturated, subtraction becomes an act of wisdom.”
Could “nothing” be the doorway to the kind of happiness Cherry describes, and the needed wisdom that Sabrina mentions?
Could “nothing” not be full of stuff and activity, but full of meaning?
The Beauty of “Nothing”
“Nothing” isn’t emptiness. It’s a space, a pause, a breath. When used as intentional stillness or mindful rest, it becomes a source of renewal.
Think of sitting quietly with a cup of coffee (or a 16.9 oz bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper), watching the sky shift colors, or walking without a podcast in your ears. These moments can be sacred.
Embracing nothingness in a world that glorifies hustle can be a radical act of self-care, reclaiming your time, attention, and even your soul. Spiritual clarity often emerges in silence (not in the noise).
Choosing nothing is also a choice to be in the present!
Conclusion
I think the answer isn’t more, it’s less, with intention. In a culture of constant motion, choosing stillness is countercultural, but it’s also healing.
Here’s your gentle challenge: Pick a day this week to do nothing. This is not an escape, but an invitation. Sit. Breathe. Be. And see what you find in the quiet, in the nothing.