The Gift of Doing Nothing
Doing nothing is harder than it looks.
For us and for our dogs.
When life hums with notifications, to-do lists, and “just one more email,” we forget that stillness is a skill. The same is true for our dogs, who live in a world filled with movement and excitement—doorbells, squirrels, the sound of the treat jar opening.
“Nothing” doesn’t come naturally. It has to be learned, reinforced, and, over time, valued.
The Settle That Builds Itself
I still remember the first time Bagheera offered me a real settle.
We were mid-session—clicker in hand, treats ready—and she just flopped down, sighed, and looked at me like, “You good if I just chill?”
It wasn’t trained that day. It was built from dozens of tiny moments where stillness had quietly paid off. Every time she relaxed near me, I marked and dropped a bit of kibble. No cue. No expectation. Just a little “yes” to peace.
That’s how the “gift of doing nothing” starts—by catching the moments you usually overlook.
Building Value in Stillness
You can’t cue calm into a dog who’s never found it rewarding.
Here’s how to start changing that:
Reinforce Spontaneous Calm. If your dog chooses to lie down while you’re cooking or scrolling, toss a treat her way. You’re building a quiet habit loop: calm = good things.
Add a Settle Cue (Gently). Once she’s offering the behavior often, name it—“settle,” “relax,” “park it”—and reinforce. Don’t force it; label what’s already happening.
Mix In Short Settle Sessions. A mat, a leash, and a book or coffee. Sit quietly together for a few minutes each day. No cues, no drills—just shared calm.
Use the Environment. Dogs are experts at reading the room. Dim lights, slower movement, calm music—all cues that say, “It’s downtime.”
The goal isn’t a statue. It’s a dog who can shift from alert to at ease, who sees “quiet” not as a timeout, but as comfort.
The Hard Part: Doing Nothing Ourselves
Roo taught me that this lesson wasn’t just for dogs.
When she was older and slowing down, she’d lie in the grass, just watch the wind and smell the scents that passed by. No agenda. No rush. I used to get restless—“we should be training, walking, doing something.”
But the truth is, dogs already understand presence. We’re the ones catching up.
When we slow down enough to share stillness with them, the relationship deepens. We stop managing behavior and start co-existing with it.
Troubleshooting the Wiggles
If your dog can’t seem to settle, check for:
Unmet needs. Exercise, sniff time, enrichment, and rest all play their parts.
Overtired chaos. Some dogs act wild when they’re actually exhausted. Teach them what rest looks like.
Too much caffeine energy—from you. Our tone, tension, and pace often dictate the dog’s. If you’re buzzing, she’s buzzing.
Stillness grows where safety lives. Start by creating predictability, then sprinkle in reinforcement for those micro-moments of peace.
Closing Thought
The gift of doing nothing is really a gift of permission.
Permission for your dog to exhale. Permission for you to stop fixing. Permission to simply be.
When your dog settles next to you—not because she has to, but because it feels right—you’ll realize the power of stillness.
It’s not empty. It’s full of trust.
