No Time Is Wasted: Finding Presence in the Moments That Feel Empty
- Jose Manuel Paez, MD
- Jul 9
- 6 min read
Updated: Jul 13
Last night, somewhere between Can I have some water? And Just one more hug, bedtime stretched well past an hour again. I caught myself humming Pink Floyd's line, "Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day." The minutes passed by, and I felt that familiar tug: Shouldn't I be doing something more productive? Like that after-hours call, I set up thinking that my sons would be asleep by now, yet the only thing that mattered in that room was my son's small hand reaching out for mine.
Most of us inherit a view of time as currency: we learn that we have to spend it wisely, invest it cleverly, and waste it at our peril. The many productivity apps and color-coded calendars reinforce that mindset, each promising to help you reclaim minutes, if not hours, from your day. We have all felt that tug when life slows down, whether during an endless staff meeting, a toddler's hour-long attempt to buckle a car seat, or a teenager's silent stare at unfinished homework, we all feel the itch of "lost" minutes. But what if we pause? What if those minutes are not lost at all? What if presence, not productivity, is the point?
I. The Myth of "Wasted" Time, Backed by Science
When we treat every quiet interval as a problem to solve, the brain's Default Mode Network (DMN) springs to life. This region of the brain was first described in 2001 by neurologist Marcus Raichle and colleagues. The DMN is a constellation of brain regions that light up whenever the mind turns inward to daydream, plan, or replay memories. If left unchecked, the DMN pumps out ruminative loops and future-oriented worry. We have learned from social media that we need to be "demure, mindful"; the latter is more important for our purposes. Mindfulness practices, even brief ones, can quiet this network, reduce mind-wandering nearly by half, and even nudge up working memory scores in a matter of weeks. Stillness is not sloth; it is cognitive maintenance.
Attachment research offers a parallel lesson. Building on the work of psychiatrist John Bowlby, recent hyper-scanning studies show that when caregivers and children share calm, goal-free moments, their brainwaves literally synchronize, boosting gamma activity, which is linked to learning and emotional safety. Those unproductive minutes are laying down neural hardware for resilience. So, it is definitely not "wasted" time, as we often fear.
But where does this come from? And why do we fear it so?
II. Why Idleness Feels Unsettling
If quiet time is so valuable, why does it feel itchy or wrong? Stephen Porges, the father of Polyvagal Theory, explains that the body's vagus nerve shifts us into fight, flight, or numbing freeze whenever it senses a threat. While wasting time when running from a hungry lion is bad, we haven't really adapted this response to modern times. Modern "threats" can be as subtle as an unread email count or running late to a meeting. Co-regulation is when two nervous systems settle together. This is something parents often do for their children or partners in moments of stress, and leaders do for those whom they lead; this alone tones the vagal response and guides us back toward calm social engagement.
Psychologically, the drive to optimize every minute often grows from early scripts that tie worth to output; yes, it's essential to succeed in life, but it's more important that this success does not predicate your worthiness. Edward Deci and Richard Ryan, creators of the Self-Determination Theory, show that humans thrive when autonomy, competence, and relatedness all receive steady nourishment. Hyper-productivity overfeeds competence but starves relatedness. Presence restores the balance, echoing John Lennon's reminder that "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
So, how do we restore this balance? And how can we model it for our children and teams?
III. Presence as Everyday Leadership
Whether you manage a division, establish co-parenting ground rules after a breakup, or juggle budget meetings with helping your teen write college essays, attention is your most potent resource. Research on authentic leadership, spearheaded by Bill George and later expanded by Bruce Avolio, finds that teams led by people who offer genuine, undivided attention show higher trust and better performance, regardless of workload. At home, the same dynamic plays out, only with smaller shoes by the door and bigger emotions at the dinner table.
Sometimes, this feels like a big ask, "Just be," but presence does not require perfect words or instant fixes. It simply asks that you stay, through boredom, frustration, or messy feelings, long enough for the other person to feel seen. And I promise that each micro-moment of connection feeds that need for relatedness, whether the "other person" is a colleague waiting for feedback, a toddler stacking blocks, or a high-school junior dreading tomorrow's chemistry test.
So, let's remember that information is not transformation and put this knowledge into action. (Check out my article on this for more profound insights)
Five Evidence-Aligned Ways to Reframe "Empty" Moments
Swap the Metric
Replace "Is this useful?" with "What is this moment asking of me?" Open questions disrupt rumination and tether attention to the present.
Check the Body
Restlessness often shows up as tight shoulders or shallow breathing. Three slow breaths engage the vagus nerve and shift the body toward calm, making presence physiologically easier.
Label the Inner Auditor
Naming a critical voice, such as the "Productivity Police,", works nicely, as it activates prefrontal circuits that downshift emotional charge; a technique known as affect labeling.
Repeat the Mantra "Being Here Is Enough"
Self-compassion research, led by Kristin Neff, shows that a kind phrase can lower cortisol and increase heart rate variability, markers of stress resilience.
Review with Compassion
Each evening, jot one "pointless or wasted" interval and hunt for its hidden yield: a softened tone, a teen's micro-victory in self-confidence, or a colleague's sigh of relief. Retroactive meaning-making boosts well-being even more than gratitude journaling; yes, I said it, sue me.
IV. The Invisible Labor That Holds Us Together
Economists call it unpaid labor, neuroscientists call it social synchrony, and philosophers from the Stoics to Thich Nhat Hanh call it living in accord with nature. Whatever the label you choose, presence provides the glue that metrics often overlook. The little, unseen things you do, like waiting up until your teen texts "I'm home" or standing by to support a colleague before their big pitch, don't show up on any official scorecard. Still, those quiet gestures build the trust and stability that make both family life and career success possible.
"Still, those quiet gestures build the trust and stability that make both family life and career success possible."
V. Guilt, Examined
Parents and leaders alike carry a low hum of guilt, feeling that there are never enough hours or proof of progress. Yet guilt is a noisy guide. When it flares, ask, Whose standard am I failing? If the answer is hazy or rooted in someone else's expectations, consider rewriting the rulebook. Stoicism's call to "Live according to nature," echoed by Marcus Aurelius, pairs well with Buddhism's reminder to "Wash the dishes to wash the dishes." What we attend to is what becomes real, and we can choose what to attend to.
“No minute spent in genuine presence is ever truly wasted.”
VI. Enoughness, Plain, and Simple
Now, picture a parent of a teen balancing quarterly earnings calls with late-night calculus tutoring or an executive pausing in the hallway while a new hire stumbles through a question. Nothing about the pause screams achievement, yet presence there is an anchor. It says, "You matter, even now, especially now." Ambition remains important; presence simply gives it roots deep enough to survive uncertainty. When we allow some moments to be purely relational, unscripted, and unfiltered, even, we model a broader definition of worth for our children, our colleagues, and ourselves.
“Efficiency is a fine servant but a terrible master.”
Closing Thought
So, remember that efficiency is a fine servant but a terrible master. Child development labs, leadership institutes, and contemplative traditions converge on this point: the most transformative growth doesn't look at the stopwatch. Presence is not a consolation prize for those who fall behind; it is the quiet engine of resilience and connection. No minute devoted to it is ever truly wasted.
"Presence is not a consolation prize for those who fall behind; it is the quiet engine of resilience and connection."
If you, or someone you know, is struggling to find this balance, I am here for you. Book your FREE Clarity Call and start taking action today!
This essay is offered for reflection and does not replace personalized mental-health or parenting guidance. If persistent feelings of inadequacy or overwhelm arise, seek support from a licensed professional.