8:30 pm, and I finally got home after a productive workday. What was next? I decided to call it a day by catching up on my favourite show with a side of leftover aloo-keema from lunch. Two hours into the night, the credits rolled, and I shut down my laptop screen, wrapped myself in a plush blanket, and soaked in the late-night fall ambience. As I lay there, I couldn’t help but wonder: why, even after such a productive day and the perfect wind-down, did I still feel hollow—a bit lost, a whole lot incomplete?
A few weeks later, it was yet another random night post-work. After having dinner with my family, I was all set to watch the last episode of my current season and indulge in the gourmet chocolates my mamu brought for us. As I turned on the TV, surprise, surprise—the electricity went out. “Ah, whyyyy todayyyy?” I groaned in frustration. It was one of those nights where all your devices are dying, and you don’t have enough balance for data.
Utterly annoyed, I grabbed my headphones and tuned into the FM radio. You’re probably thinking, “Wait, what … FM? Really?” But yeah, I didn’t have another option. Not that I’m a boomer or anything. It’s just that I needed to do something to disconnect from my day before going to sleep. Binge-watching helped with that quite well. But on that particular day, we, unfortunately or fortunately, had to do with the radio.
Jumping from one station to the next, I was looking for some songs, hoping they’d play my favourite ones that night. At least that way, I could end my day on a decent note amidst this dark room filled with the bzzz bzzz of mosquitoes. So far, it was one trash song followed by one decent one. But then, I stumbled upon a channel I wasn’t expecting…
أَلَمْ يَأْنِ لِلَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوٓا۟ أَن تَخْشَعَ قُلُوبُهُمْ لِذِكْرِ ٱللَّهِ وَمَا نَزَلَ مِنَ ٱلْحَقِّ
“Has the time not come for those who have believed that their hearts should become humbly submissive at the remembrance of Allāh and what has come down of the truth?”
[Quran 57:16]
For the next 30 seconds–ish, I listened to the song on the new station, having successfully escaped the Quran recitation. But sure enough, there I was, realising how “zameer” (conscience) works. My fingers had rushed to change the station, but my heart, my ears, my consciousness — they were still lingering on it. I felt a sense of unease creeping over my entire body. “Did I just dodge and rush to escape the Quran and choose music instead…?” A shiver ran down my spine.
Overstimulation: The Modern Trap
You see, for the longest time, I thought winding down meant distraction – a way to disconnect from the chaos of my day. But here’s the plot twist: I was just replacing one form of stimulation with another.
All day long, we’re bombarded with endless inputs: emails, meetings, notifications, social media, even people dealing. It’s like running on a hamster wheel of stimulation. But here’s the kicker – when we try to wind down by continuing the cycle with more stimulation (hello, binge-watching and endless scrolling), we’re not actually resting. We’re just feeding the overstimulation monster.
Think of it like this: your brain is a sponge. During the day, it soaks up every drop of stimuli it can find. But instead of de-soaking it at the end of the day, we just keep pouring more onto it. More shows, more music, more social media. Until, eventually, the sponge can’t hold any more, and we’re left feeling drained. Not because we didn’t do enough – but because we never gave ourselves a chance to truly rest.
That’s why, even after a “perfect” evening filled with all your favourite things, you might still feel empty. You’ve overstimulated your brain to the point where it’s not satisfied by anything anymore. We’ve become so used to being constantly “on” that when we do finally stop, we feel…weird.
But that night where I felt as if time had stopped, I realised something profound: what if the problem wasn’t that I didn’t have enough stimulation, but that I had too much?
The Power of Unplugging
That night, as the Quran played, I didn’t get the rush I was used to. At first, I felt restless, bored even. My mind craved the buzz of something more stimulating. But then, something shifted. The recitation became a balm, soothing and comforting in a way that no song, show, or snack ever had. It wasn’t about escaping anymore – it felt at home. I was in a state of utter bliss and a sense of reawakening and energising even though I was so tired before. It was as if for the first time in a long time I felt weirdly full—tad satisfied, a whole lot complete.
Sometimes, we need to unplug. To step off the hamster wheel of constant stimulation and allow our minds to settle. Whether it’s through prayer, mindfulness, or simply being in the quiet, we need moments where we aren’t bombarding ourselves with inputs. Because here’s the truth: real rest doesn’t come from more stimulation. It comes from less.
Break the Cycle
We live in a world where it feels like we need to constantly consume to stay happy, entertained, or relaxed. But what if the key to feeling more complete wasn’t found in adding more things to our lives, but in stripping them away? What if instead of ending our nights with a dopamine high, we chose something quieter, something deeper?
The next time you find yourself reaching for the remote or your phone to “unwind,” pause. Ask yourself: Am I truly resting, or just distracting myself from the day’s exhaustion?
Try ending your day differently. Whether it’s listening to a calming recitation, reading, reflecting, or just sitting in silence, give your brain a break from the constant barrage of inputs. You might just find that the sense of hollowness you’ve been feeling starts to fade, replaced by something far more fulfilling – a sense of peace, of groundedness, of wholeness.
So, what will it be tonight – another episode, or a moment of real rest?
