Retreat Yourself
- John-Michael Scurio
- Jul 26
- 4 min read
Stop reading. Close your eyes. Focus on your breathing. Inhale. Exhale.
Then, shift focus to the beat of your own heart. Lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…
Bask in that moment for 3 minutes, then come back to this post and start here.
Let's begin ...
There’s a certain kind of magic that returns to us when we reclaim our nothingness.
I’m not talking about the “nothing” that makes us anxious; you know that hollow “I should be doing something” nothingness that gnaws at the edge of our self-worth ... no, this is the gentle, sacred, slow-brewed art of doing nothing.
Sitting on a porch.
Counting fireflies.
Taking a drive.
Taking a solo hike around Black Bass Lake without technology.
Walking your neighborhood with your dog.
Finding a park; then finding a swing. Swinging.
Moving past, getting closer, stopping to really smelling the honeysuckle up close.
Planting flowers in your yard.
Taking a bike ride.
Meditating.
Ahhhhhh, it all sounds so wonderful. But, lately, doesn't it seem like stillness feels endangered?
We scroll. We tap. We refresh. We trade the laptop or office computer screen for the screens on our phones. Our minds bounce from one dopamine ding to the next constantly. We eat with fork in one hand and the other cradling the almighty phone, our eyes flicking between bites of food and the curated lives of others.
We sleep with phones on our bedroom nightstand. These are often lit up, buzzing intruders, never letting our dreams fully stretch their legs.
Why? Because we’ve forgotten that we are not machines. We are not meant to process every tragedy, every meme, every life milestone of every person we've ever met since fourth grade ... in one afternoon.
Somewhere along the way, doing nothing became unfashionable. Like leisure had to be “productive” and rest had to be scheduled. And if we weren’t multitasking, surely, we were falling behind.
But here’s the truth no one's talking about these days...
We were not built for this kind of overstimulation.
There, I said it.
Whatever you think about this subject, think it. But I'm here to offer a different perspective because that's what I do. So many people live tethered to their phone. I admit, I do, too, at times. Our jobs suck us into it, then, somewhere along the way, we've clicked over to Tiktok. Our long-distance family in another state woo us into their digital photo album which highlights their recent cruise and then bam - you're on Facebook, scrolling for an hour.
More and more, we see people interacting with each other ... phones in hand and/or face in phone.
Listen. Our nervous systems are on the fritz. Our relationships are thinner than dial-up. Our attention spans are shot, frayed. And beneath all that noise, we’re lonely in a way that doesn’t show up on Instagram.
So, what if we tried something radical?
What if we cut the cord ... at least a little bit?
Welcome to Eureka Springs, Arkansas!
"Recalling the elegance and pace of an earlier era."
In Eureka Springs, Arkansas, we know this kind of nothing intimately. We sit on porches and watch the mist lift off the trees like the town is exhaling. We let conversations meander without checking the time. We know how to pause. And friends, let me tell you: we were made for this kind of stillness. In fact, I'm writing this from my porch in Eureka Springs, where the only thing buzzing is a lazy July cicada.
Retreat yourself. Start here.
Don’t eat with your phone.
Let your plate be the performance. Let the steam curl into your face and your thoughts wander freely. Practice mindful eating. Talk to yourself about the flavors. Think about how lucky you are to have food. Be grateful. Show appreciation for your food.
Don’t sleep with your phone in the room. Let your body be the only thing buzzing under the covers. Let your brain soak in the deep, analog kind of rest that no algorithm can offer.
Turn off the candy-colored dopamine trap.
Setting your phone to grayscale makes everything duller ...
Instagram? Blah.
TikTok? Meh.
Facebook? Eh.
Suddenly, your device feels more like a tool and less like a Vegas slot machine.
Settings → Accessibility → Display → Grayscale (note: These steps vary by phone).
Most important: Challenge yourself to stop scrolling like your soul depends on it.
Because it doesn’t.
It never did.
Do nothing.
Stare out the window.
Sit under a tree.
Dip your feet into the cold creek.
Let your mind yawn.
Let your heart reset.
Let the moment be enough.
Because here’s the secret that Eureka Springs whispers in your ear every time you turn off your phone and walk outside:
Stillness is where your truest self lives.
Not the self you curate, or post, or project.
The real one.
The one that sighs when the rain hits the tin roof.
The one that smiles at the grazing deer for no reason.
The one that remembers that life is more poetry than productivity.
So go ahead.
Cancel your scroll.
Forget your feed.
And step into the delicate, delightful, delicious art of doing absolutely, gloriously, wonderfully ... nothing. While there is a lot to do here, Eureka Springs also offers an opportunity to do nothing. We live in this place at the perfect pace. "A pace of an earlier era."
Get here. Do nothing.
Give yourself a true "MFW."
Your nervous system will thank you.
Your soul will, too.❤️
MFW?
Here are two other blog-posts where I highlight the power of the MFW. Please enjoy:
