Intentional Underwhelm: Creating Space for Presence
I can’t remember the first time I heard the phrase intentional underwhelm, but it stuck. I have a little running list of ideas, quotes, podcasts, basically anything I find inspiring that I keep on the Notes app on my phone, and so when I hear it, I write it down, and this phrase, intentional underwhelm, was one of those things that I grabbed onto.
At the time, I was feeling very overwhelmed, which is why I liked it so much. But by the time I went to revisit my list, I realized that just grabbing the phrase from the ether and noting it planted a seed. Something shifted.
By intentional underwhelm, I don’t mean the failure to impress. I mean deliberately reducing stimulation. Going slower. Choosing what to consume and not to consume. Being judicious about what you say yes to. Turning down the dial on the constant noise.
Going Slower = Increased Presence
Carl Honoré’s 2005 book, In Praise of Slowness, challenged the cultural norm of trying to pack as much as possible into every minute and made a compelling case for slowing down. He argued that we have gotten so used to moving quickly that we have forgotten to be present with our lives.
“The great benefit of slowing down is reclaiming the time and tranquility to make meaningful connections—with people, with culture, with work, with nature, with our own bodies and minds.”
Two decades later the conversation is still relevant, maybe even more so. Cal Newport’s 2024 book, Slow Productivity: The Lost Art of Accomplishment without Burnout, continues the call for a more intentional pace, one that prioritizes deep work without sacrificing well-being. This viewpoint very much aligns with what we mean by mindful accountability. Doing the things that are aligned with your vision and goals while supporting your health and well-being.
Clearly, doing less and going slow are extremely counterculture. After all, we’ve all heard the adages: time is money, time flies, and time waits for no one. But in trying to maximize our time, we often lose the ability to enjoy it. In our hurry, we trade presence for productivity and end up overwhelmed.
Signs you may be overwhelmed:
- Trouble focusing or remembering things
- Restlessness, anxiety, or fatigue
- Filling every spare moment with content: emails, social media, podcasts, news
What’s Helping Me Cultivate Intentional Underwhelm:
Give yourself permission to slow down.
Notice when you’re rushing. Ask yourself why. Often, it’s simply a mindset. Can you give yourself more time?
Be mindful of your inputs.
Choose quality over quantity. Does what you consume support your nervous system and well-being? I’ve noticed the more relaxed I stay, the less attracted I am to content that upsets or depletes me.
Protect interstitial spaces.
Cal Newport calls these “intentional boredom breaks.” When you are waiting in line or running a quick errand, resist the urge to fill the space. Experiencing boredom helps us reset our dopamine levels and makes it easier to concentrate later.
Create tech-free pockets.
For me, this means leaving my phone in another room. I still catch myself reaching for it, but not having it out of reach makes a big difference. Sometimes, I want to look something up, and the friction of having to get up keeps me from doing it. Other times, I’m simply reaching for it because I haven’t checked it in a while. It’s eye-opening to see how many times a day you pick up your phone, which you can see under your screen time stats.
Replace consumption with presence.
Observe. Breathe. Be still. I’ve built in two daily practices to support this: meditation and tech-free walks. Even folding laundry in silence rather than listening to a podcast helps. The bonus is that if my kids walk in and see that I’m listening to something, they will keep walking, but if I’m available to listen they will often talk with me, and I get both presence and connection time.
The biggest wins from writing down that little phrase—intentional underwhelm. More connection, less consumption, and permission to go slower. Aiming for underwhelm has allowed me to listen better, not rush through interactions, and to be more comfortable and less agitated in my own body.
Intrigued? What’s one small way you can embrace intentional underwhelm today?
