When Did Doing Nothing Become So Much Work?

You might’ve noticed that a shift is afoot, or perhaps you’ve been too consumed by the chaotic news cycle (fair enough!) to clock the subtle changes in mood and movement. London, the site of so much summer excitement, seems to have slowed down; the trees are shedding their verdant leaves, and the rest of us are reaching for layers that, just a few weeks ago, seemed unimaginable to need. This weekend, the clocks go back, officially drawing the curtain on British Summer Time and ushering in the darker, slower days of winter.

In my household, where cosy season is treated with the utmost respect (my boyfriend has been trying to jumpstart ‘Cosy Boy Autumn’ as both a term and a way of life since 2021), incense is being swapped for candles, and throws are being hauled out of the attic. I’m about a week away from ordering some bath oils.

As an October baby, I like to think I’m hard-wired to appreciate autumn—a season historically associated with abundance thanks to harvest festival culture, which for me, quite literally manifests as a pile of presents on my birthday (or, at least it used to). Still, I’m not immune to that familiar pang of end-of-season sadness. As the sun sets on summer and we collectively edge away from the Aperol-fuelled spontaneity of last-minute plans, it’s natural to mourn what’s over.

But perhaps that’s where we’ve been going wrong. For centuries, autumn was a time to retreat, recharge and embrace a slower pace of life. A season of hibernation, hearty dinners and guilt-free evenings spent doing very little. It used to be, anyway, but this is 2026 and even the seasons aren’t immune to social media’s endless quest to optimise.

Across TikTok, the “Great Lock-In”—also known as the “Winter Arc”—is back, rebranding the colder months as a season of self-improvement. TikTok’s own 2026 trend report identifies the broader ‘lock-in’ mindset as a major cultural movement, with 1.1 million posts under #lockedin, spanning everything from fitness challenges to productivity rituals.

I remember a time when October was just part of a season and not an exercise in making autumn your entire personality, fuelled by pumpkin spice everything and leaf peeping challenges. Now, as a millennial, I have to acknowledge my generation’s role in bringing Christian Girl Autumn to the masses, but Gen Z might’ve bastardised the season more by turning it into the optimisation olympics.

And look, I’m all for a little structure. There’s something appealing about the promise of a fresh start. But must every season become an opportunity to reinvent ourselves? Can’t we just... exist? To paraphrase Jemima Kirke, are we all thinking about ourselves a bit too much?

When did slowing down become something we have to buy?

Online, the Great Lock-In is increasingly intertwined with the broader slow-living movement, drawing inspiration from Scandinavian wintering traditions, screen-free socialising and a romanticised return to simpler pleasures. Board games, record players, reading corners and elaborate home-cooked dinners are all enjoying renewed cultural appeal. In our always-on, doomscrolling culture, going analogue feels like its own little rebellion.

But even our attempts to disconnect have become an aesthetic in their own right. The perfectly styled reading nook, the vintage record player, the rich people building analogue rooms. There’s an entire lifestyle being sold back to us under the guise of escaping modern life.

Do we really need to buy our way into a more intentional existence? Surely there’s a way to rethink how we use what we already have.

“I think people miss the feeling of giving something their full attention,” says Simon Salomonsson, CEO of cult furniture brand OMHU. “Reading a book, listening to a record or having a conversation that goes on longer than expected. The appeal of analogue living is having more of those moments at home.”

“I would start with what you want to spend more time doing at home. Put a reading light beside your favourite seat. Arrange seating so people can comfortably face each other. Keep the board game within reach. A room can make the things you want to do easier to begin,” says Salomonsson.

“The appeal of analogue living is having more of those moments at home,” says Simon Salomonsson, CEO of cult Danish furniture brand OMHU, on creating spaces that encourage us to slow down and reconnect.

For food writer Sophie Wyburd, the pleasure of slowing down is equally as uncomplicated. “Cooking intuitively without pressure is one of my favourite ways to unwind,” she says. Her weekend rituals, involving long, slow recipes and the simple satisfaction of making something delicious, offer a welcome antidote to the pressure to make every moment productive. “It’s cooking purely for pleasure,” she explains.

Now, I’m no chef, but this sounds more like autumn than 6am workouts. As Tamu Thomas, life coach and author of Women Who Work Too Much, explains, our bodies are responsive to the changing seasons. “We are hard-wired to respond to the seasons,” she says.

And yet, rather than taking our cues from nature (which, you’ll notice, isn’t too concerned with hitting its quarterly goals), we’re still trying to squeeze productivity out of every waking moment.

So, as the clocks go back this weekend, I’m proposing a slightly different kind of Great Lock-In. One that doesn’t involve a new morning routine, a colour-coded habit tracker or a shopping list of things supposedly essential to living more intentionally.

Go full When Harry Met Sally mode. Light the candles, cook (or order in) something delicious, invite your friends over. Spend an entire Sunday reading a book, or don’t. But whatever you do, resist the urge to turn it into another project.