Mindfulness
Rebelling Against the Tyranny of Busyness
Personal Perspective: Getting off the wheel of perpetual doing
Posted January 17, 2025 Reviewed by Davia Sills
Key points
- Modern culture glorifies busyness and productivity.
- Savoring the present is the quiet rebellion of the Croatian concept of fjaka.
- One can practice fjaka anywhere by choosing to pause and be present.
- Prioritizing being over doing promotes well-being.
We live in a world that reveres the mantra of “more.” More work, more achievements, more distractions to fill the gaping maw of existence. Our culture fetishizes busyness, turning it into a badge of honor and a blunt instrument of self-worth. But what if there’s a way to slip through the cracks of all that chaos? What if we could defy the ceaseless churn of modern life—not with resistance, but with surrender?
Enter fjaka, a Croatian word that feels less like a concept and more like a state of transcendence. I learned the word from Saskia Neil, a guest on Fifty Words for Snow, the podcast I cohost with Emily Garcés, where we explore words without an English equivalent. Fjaka has haunted me like a benevolent specter ever since. It isn’t laziness; it’s radical permission—the deliberate choice to unshackle yourself from the relentless “go, go, go” that keeps us chained to the wheel of perpetual doing.
What Is Fjaka?
Fjaka is that rare, glorious state where you simply let go. Imagine yourself perched on a sun-dappled rock by the Adriatic Sea. The world whispers to you—move, strive, achieve—but you, my dear rebel, recline deeper into the moment, unbothered and unhurried.
You’re not passive; you’re attuned. You’re savoring existence as it unfolds, unencumbered by the need to explain or justify.
As Saskia explained, in Croatian culture, fjaka is not just accepted—it’s celebrated. It’s the divine art of presence, a meditative attunement where the body relaxes, the mind quiets, and time itself seems to loosen its suffocating tie.
You’ve felt it, haven’t you? That fleeting moment when the world pauses, the shackles of time disintegrate, and for a heartbeat—or perhaps an hour—you’re utterly at peace. Fjaka invites us to expand that moment and live there.
The Sacred Punk Rock of Stillness
Fjaka is a rebellion. It’s a slap in the face of hustle culture, a middle finger to the relentless productivity machine. Saskia called it punk, and she’s right. To embrace fjaka is to reject the idea that our worth is tied to how much we do. It’s a refusal to let the grinding gears of capitalism dictate the tempo of our soul.
It’s no coincidence that fjaka originates in Dalmatia, where the sea cradles you, where time slows down and acquiesces to the rhythm of the waves. In this setting, fjaka becomes not just a word but a way of life—a refusal to participate in the madness of more.
And it’s not just a Croatian thing. The Spanish have fiaca, a similarly joyous laziness. Across Mediterranean cultures, there’s an understanding that timelessness isn’t indulgent; it’s essential. It’s a rebellion not just against the immediate pressures of life but against the entire cultural construct that glorifies haste and multitasking.
Why Fjaka Matters
In a world addicted to movement, fjaka is the antidote. It challenges the narrative that we are only valuable when we’re busy. It reminds us that life is not a ladder to be climbed but a moment to be lived.
When you embrace fjaka, you give yourself permission to pause without guilt. You say no to the tyranny of urgency. You let yourself sit in the marrow of the moment and discover that, far from being empty, it’s brimming with richness.
This isn’t laziness. It’s freedom.
How to Embrace Fjaka
You don’t need a plane ticket to Croatia to experience fjaka (though I imagine the Adriatic helps). You can invite it into your life right now. Here’s how:
- Pause. Set down the endless to-do list and take a moment to breathe. Notice the stillness beneath the noise.
- Say no. When the world clamors for your attention, let fjaka be your excuse. You don’t need to explain; just exist.
- Be here. Resist the pull of the future. Anchor yourself in the present.
Fjaka is a portal to timelessness. To embrace fjaka is to declare your allegiance to being over doing. It’s the quiet revolution we all need—a reminder that in letting go of the relentless march forward, we can reclaim the sacredness of now.
So, next time life demands you keep moving, try this: Stop. Let the jaws of time unhinge. Sink into the moment. Find that stillness, that contentment, that holy state of fjaka.
Because here’s the thing I’m realizing: Life isn’t meant to be endured. It’s meant to be savored. And in the soft, slow rhythm of fjaka, you just might remember how.
