No force, just pull. I’m either going insane or I finally stopped fighting a wave that was trying to carry me.

Last Friday, I had one of those tasks on my list. You know the type. The kind that makes you copy it to tomorrow’s todo list with the quiet hope that future-you will somehow have more discipline than present-you.

This particular task wasn’t just boring. I already optimized it to the point of soul-crushing efficiency. Necessary. Cumbersome.

The kind of thing I normally would procrastinate on for days, or force myself through with the determination of someone defusing a bomb while hungover.

So I started haggling with myself. Maybe I do 50% of it and the rest tomorrow? Maybe I do nothing today? I was already copying the task to Saturday and imagined myself being really annoyed in the future.

Whatever. Let’s watch some YouTube. A guy in a tuk-tuk DJing cosmic Italo Disco while driving through Bangkok was more important anyway.

And then something strange happened. The guy in the Tuktuk got a smoke and my body started tingling. Energetic.

Not nicotine. Just… a pull.

Pulled from Bangkok to Meta Ads

I felt drawn to the shittask. Like a magnet pulling iron filings.

Not a rational thought. Not a “let me be productive” decision. Just this embodied pull. A felt sense that said: Now. Do it now. Tomorrow it’ll be gone.

So I did.

And it just… vibed. Time flew.

Don’t get me wrong. I took some micro-detours, five-minute tangents in WhatsApp or appearing in front of my washing machine without knowing how I came there in the first place.

Those distractions normally would derail me completely, but the energy kept pulling me back. The work flowed. Not because I was forcing focus. Because I was in it. By the end, it was done.

The task I usually wage war against for hours? Finished. Effortlessly.

I sat there afterward, slightly stunned, asking the only question that made sense: What the fuck just happened?

The False Rest

Probably plenty of things, but interestingly this wasn’t the first time that happened.

One thing that I’ve been slowly realizing over the past years, and what that Friday crystallized…

I wasn’t resting.

Not because I didn’t have time. I have a lot of free time. Technically. Like on paper. Time when I wasn’t working. Time I told myself I was “resting.”

However there was always something in my mind. Tasks were still on the todo list. Undone. Sitting there looking at me. I stop working, sure. Move them one day forward.

Maybe scroll. Maybe procrastinate. Maybe sit on the couch and call it a break. But the mental load never released. The tasks were still in my head. Sitting there like a low-grade frequency hum I couldn’t turn off.

Inactive time is not rest.

Stopping work is not completing the rest cycle.

I have no idea why I missed that for so long. I thought I was operating with freedom and I was, in the external sense. I could mostly choose what to work on and when.

But internally? I was carrying the weight of every unfinished task through every “rest” period. My freedom was still a cage. Just a different kind.

So what I actually did now that i think about it…

Never fully rest, push through when I “should” work, expend enormous energy fighting my own resistance, have less energy for actual work, feel exhausted and behind, need to “rest” (but not really), repeat.

Lots of energy spent on maintenance

A weird loop. A closed circuit that apparently kept draining power.

This lead to “Totalausfall” days. The days when I would collapse into complete shutdown.

Now that I read a bit more about it I guess it was my nervous system forcing the rest I refused to allow voluntarily.

My body staging a coup because I wouldn’t give it what it needed.

The core error? I was treating my energy like a factory line. Something I could control, optimize, and schedule.

Not what it actually seems to be: a wave. With its own intelligence. Its own rhythm.

The Real Discovery: Active Nothing

This shift wasn’t a decision. It was an accident.

I stumbled into what I now call active nothing. Not just free time. Not just stopping work. But complete mental release.

The tasks still exist. But I’m actively not planning them in. Task list fully empty. I even actively allow myself to not think of anything.

Resting time baby. No residue. No background hum. Nothing.

And this was the first time when something paradoxically happened. A few weeks before the Friday shit task event.

The pull emerged. Not because I manufactured it. Because it got space to be there.

Riding the wave

Here’s how my system actually works, as far as I can tell:

High activation happens. I feel the pull toward work. I engage fully. Time disappears. The magnet is strong. I go with it.

Eventually, the system downregulates. The pull fades. Energy dips.

My brain goes into a state of pure indifference. Not sadness, not anxiety, just a flat, neutral calm. A complete lack of interest. Old me would panic here.

Why am I not motivated? I should be working. What’s wrong with me?

New me recognizes it: Oh. Rest phase. Let it happen.

So I allow it. Fully. No guilt. No force. Even if there are tasks still on the list, I let them sit there and I actively do nothing. I actually rest. Mental release. The cycle completes.

And then, without me doing anything, the system naturally rebounds. The pull comes back. Often stronger. Often faster than before.

The fuel source isn’t the activation. It’s the permission to complete the cycle.

This is the oscillation. High and low. Push and pull. Work and rest. The wave needs the trough to build the crest.

The Evidence: Or am I just making it up?

Since noticing this pattern, I’ve started catching it in the wild. Testing if it’s real.

There’s the shit task story. But it’s not a one-off.

Happening at random times for random “tasks”

The articles here on the blog somehow all happened like this. Even today.

I scribbled down the idea for this piece this morning. Then I let it sit. Did other things. Forgot about it. Didn’t force it. And now, ten hours later, I feel the pull. That same magnetic draw.

Write it now. It’ll be fun. You’re curious about this. So here I am. Flowing.

It’s still weird because it’s a new feeling.

A sensation I never had before. Like if there’s no pushing and fighting and haggling, who am I? (probably a question for another article)

Interestingly also the wavelength and frequency change the more I let it flow. The activation phases are getting faster. The flow states are lasting longer. And I’m not doing anything to create this.

I’m just… allowing it.

So I think I am going completely insane by now BUT. Turns out, I’m not discovering something new. I’m cooperating with something that was always there.

I started wondering if I was making this all up. Just having a few good weeks and building a story around it. But the pattern felt too real.

I realized if I push through the low phases, I’m not being tough. I’m flooding myself with stress hormones.

I wasn’t discovering a new system. I was finally listening to the one that was already there.

Maybe my nervous system does have intelligence. Maybe when I stop forcing it, it actually optimizes itself.

I’m still not entirely convinced, but… it keeps happening.

The Question of Freedom

Now, the obvious question, and maybe you are already thinking it: Does any of this apply if you’re not a digital nomad with a flexible schedule?

To be honest, my freedom to have that time is a privilege and it gave me the space to see this pattern clearly. But I’m convinced the freedom isn’t the source of the insight. It was just the catalyst.

I had the same freedom half a year ago, and I was still exhausted, grinding myself down.

The external flexibility meant nothing when the internal system was broken.

The core principle isn’t about taking a month off. Or fully surrendering to not doing anything and not giving a fuck about external restrictions.

It’s that rest while holding mental load isn’t rest.

That’s a universal law of the nervous system, whether you run a company, are a freelancer, or an employee.

The oscillation happens on all scales. Minutes, hours, days, weeks. Your container may be different, but the wave is still moving. The idea is to find its rhythm within the life you have.

Oscillation in different containers and times

The Shift: From Productivity to Sustainability

I think for me the real paradigm shift isn’t about technique. It’s about trust.

Old model: “I control my output through systems and willpower. If I’m not producing, I need to push harder.”

New model: “My system has natural rhythms. My job is to recognize and cooperate with them.”

This feels like a completely different game.

In the old model, rest is a concession. A necessary evil. Something I “earned” after sufficient suffering. Productivity is about domination. Forcing myself to perform regardless of what my body is signaling.

In the new model, rest is strategic. It’s how I build power for the next cycle. Productivity is about cooperation, working with my system’s intelligence rather than overriding it.

And here’s the wild part: I’m getting more output by using less force.

Not less work. Less fight.

The pull does the heavy lifting. I just have to get out of the way.

I’m not learning to be more productive. I’m learning to be sustainable. And those are not the same thing.

One burns out. The other builds up.

What I’m Trying

So here’s what I’m playing with right now. Not a prescription. Just my current experiments:

Observing.
I’m noticing when the pull emerges. When it fades. What’s the pattern? Not trying to control it. Just watching. My oscillation has its own signature. Sometimes 90 minutes. Sometimes 3 hours. Sometimes daily. Sometimes hourly. No judgment. Just data.

Practicing Active Nothing.
I asked myself where, in my current life, can I practice active nothing, even for ten minutes? Can I put down the weight of a project during my lunch break? Can I truly release the day on my commute home? Then I actively decided to do that. This lead to tension. But it got better every time. And I was able to calm down not feeling bad more often.

Noticing Pull vs. Push.
When I’m working, which is it? Pull feels like the magnet. Energized, drawn, flow. Push feels like the grind. Forcing, resisting, dragging. I’m learning to distinguish between them. Learning I can ride the pull and release afterward. Not pushing too much.

Letting the system teach me.
I guess my nervous system has been running these cycles my entire life. I’m trying to stop overriding it. Let it reveal its rhythm. Trust that the low phase is temporary. Trust that the pull comes back. Watch it happen.

Maybe this becomes a new operating system. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it’s also for you. Maybe the container doesn’t allow it.

But the question seems worth asking…

What if the exhaustion isn’t from lack of discipline? What if it’s from fighting a wave that was trying to carry us?

As I am finishing this article, the pull is still here. The oscillation in action.

I didn’t plan to write this tonight.

I just… felt drawn to it.

And now it’s done.

Allowing the oscillation is the fuel source.

Not forcing it. Not controlling it. Just cooperating with what’s already there.

Play with it. See what happens.