Monk V Goblin

Autumn is the season of sitting on your arse indoors. Here's how to do it right.

The 2011 film ‘Limitless,’ starring Bradley Cooper and Robert De Niro, has got a lot to answer for.

Cooper plays a loser who sits around in his pants eating cereal all day, struggling to get started as a writer and lamenting the loss of his girlfriend, who ups sticks and leaves when his bullshit gets too much to take.

Then, one day, he is given a magic tablet that immediately switches on the large parts of his brain that have been lying dormant all his life, lending him laser focus, boundless energy, stunning emotional intelligence and razor sharp analytical abilities.

Overnight, he becomes creatively productive and physically dynamic. Within weeks he is professionally successful, rich, popular and attractive. The definitive scene, for me, features a suddenly lean and muscular Cooper running beside the Hudson river in New York while miraculously absorbing a ‘teach yourself Japanese’ audiobook through his headphones.

Like pretty much every bloke I know who saw this film when it first came out, I was smitten by the idea that such a personal transformation might be possible. I chose to ignore the fact that the central plot device was an imaginary pill that did all the hard work for you. I told myself that with just a little extra effort and determination I too could learn Japanese, write a bestselling novel, run a three minute mile and pay off my mortgage.

I didn’t have access to a magic pill but I did know a number of cocaine dealers, which I felt was the next best thing. Coke drove my energy and, for a short while, sparked my creativity somewhat. But the benefits were short lived - quite quickly it all backfired into misery, fear, panic and the almost complete disintegration of a life that been perfectly okay in the first place.

It took the experience of addiction and recovery to wake me up to how futile the pursuit of the ‘Limitless’ lifestyle was. Over years of sobriety, therapy and self-reflection I came to realise that life is not a competition to be the best at everything. Rather, it is about the pursuit of contentment as you define it.

Why had I allowed a Hollywood movie define my goals? Why did I want to be richer, faster, more popular and better at Japanese than everyone else I knew? Probably because I had not thought clearly enough about the things that really made me happy and worked out how to pursue them effectively. It’s much easier, when you’re young especially, to refer to prefabricated templates for success and happiness. Too often, the most compelling templates are presented by master storytellers in the movie or TV industries.

I keep reading about 'the concept of ‘Monk Mode’ - whereby you disappear completely for a period of time, cutting out both real life and online socialising in order to invest all of your attention into a specific area of self-improvement. Switch off your phone, disconnect your devices, stop shaving and just stay indoors reading books about investment strategies or core strength exercises for a month. Sounds fucking thrilling.

I don’t understand why periods of quiet isolation need to be about anything more than relaxing. The very act of relaxing is self-improving in itself. There doesn’t need to be a specific goal. Productivity needn’t be your aim. Quite the opposite: short periods in which you do absolutely fuck all, allowing yourself to drift aimlessly without any specific purpose or endgame, allows your body and mind to rest and regenerate. Often, without even trying, I come up with some of my best ideas during periods of wanton indolence. The mind meanders about in a state of daydream, untethered by tedious processes or objectives. It recuperates from the dreary and exhausting business of active thought. And, eventually, it starts to playfully throw about unusual and entertaining ideas that it’s usually too constricted to contemplate.

But other times it doesn’t. It just sits there doing nothing, while I listen to a record and play video games. And that’s okay too. In fact, it is a vital part of staying healthy.

You don’t want to let it get out of hand. But setting the odd hour or two aside for a lovely bit of laziness is as important as remembering to floss your teeth, exercise or read. We are not robots and life is not a race.

There is shame associated with slothfulness. One man’s monk mode is another’s goblin mode. Goblin mode is similar, in that it involves consciously withdrawing from circulation for a set period, only the aim is to reject personal dignity. It involves wearing onesies all day, eating nothing but Pringles, watching reality TV and so on.

I get the vibe that goblin mode’s proponents are celebrating slobishness in an ironic way. But doing nothing needn’t be about being slobbish. And you don’t need to hide behind irony to justify it to yourself either. You don’t need to wear Primark pyjamas or eat cholesterol rich foods; neither do you need a scented candle or a cashmere blanket (like the Danish do, with their slightly smug version of goblin mode called hygge) . You don’t need to learn anything or come out the other side with a new lifeskill. Not everything needs to be about tangible achievement.

You don’t need to be a monk, a goblin or a smug Dane. Sometimes, you can just sit on your arse, switch off and let your goal be nothing more (or less) than simple, beautiful, life-enriching rest.

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Some services, links and phone numbers to help you through the tough times

https://www.samaritans.org/ Tel 116 123

https://www.thecalmzone.net

@YoungMindsUK 0800 018 2138

@CharitySane 0300 304 7000

https://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/

https://cocaineanonymous.org.uk/

https://andysmanclub.co.uk/

https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/healthy-body/gambling-addiction/