Stop Milking Your Weekend: Why Doing Nowt Counts Too

Eyup me wee beans!

Picture/think of this...

You’ve finally scored a bit of kid-free time. The planets have lined up. The babysitter’s on board, the grandparents have swooped in like superheroes, or somehow you’ve landed that rare, mythical “free weekend.”

And then… the panic sets in.

We’ve got to do something amazing!

We should book a spa day. Do a hike. Redecorate the house. Go to a festival. Learn Italian. Start a side hustle. Write a novel by Monday!

Because somewhere along the line, free time stopped being… well… free.

It turned into a bloody performance review.

The Unspoken Rules of “Making the Most”

We’ve picked up this weird cultural nonsense that whispers in our ear the second we stop moving. Might be capitalism. Might be social media. Might just be human FOMO on steroids. Whatever it is, it’s that little voice saying:

You must maximise every second of this.

And the pressure’s even worse if you’ve been stretched thinner than clingfilm over a mixing bowl because you’ve been parenting, caring for someone, trying to survive a busy work life, dealing with chronic tiredness, or just being a human with 400 tabs open in your brain at once.

When a rare break appears, the urge to justify it kicks in like an overzealous manager marking your weekend on a clipboard.

If you didn’t spend it doing something impressive… were you even off at all?

Through a neuroinclusive lens: free time should be genuinely free

Not all brains relax the same way.
Some people feel alive climbing a mountain at dawn.
Others need to stare at a wall for three hours, eat toast, and then have a nap.

Both are valid. Both are necessary.

Neuroinclusion in everyday life means recognising that some people recharge by being stimulated, others by being still. Some need structure and plans, others need the freedom to potter, to flit, to noodle about like a confused moth.

And here’s the cold hard truth... no one way is better!

There’s no badge for “Best Use of Free Time” waiting for you at the end of the weekend.
There’s no secret panel of judges scoring your downtime productivity.
And if there is, I’m flipping their table over.

What neuroinclusive free time actually looks like...

Permission to do nothing
Proper nothing. Not yoga nothing. Not “I’m going to make this a mindful productivity experience” nothing. I mean lying under a blanket eating Wotsits while watching YouTube videos about 17th-century breadmaking. The sort of nothing that gives your brain the equivalent of a big exhale.

Lowering the bar, then lowering it again
If you’re expecting Olympic-level romance, deep house cleaning, a creative breakthrough and a perfectly lit Instagram moment, you’re basically setting yourself up to feel pants about perfectly good downtime.

Sometimes the win is “we ate chips in the car and then sat in the quiet for a bit.”
That’s it. That’s the bar. And it’s enough.

Planning only if it helps
If making a plan soothes you, go for it. But if the very idea of making an itinerary makes your eye twitch, sack it off. Have a proper open day with nothing pinned to it.

Celebrating the small joys
A nice coffee. A sit on a park bench. A slow wander round a bookshop. These aren’t lesser ways to spend your time. This is what actual memory-making looks like for most of us real humans.

Real life: when me and Nessa found joy by accident

True story.
The other weekend, everyone I knew was going big. Day trips. Bottomless brunches. Colour-coded itineraries that looked like military operations.

Me?
I sat in my new car (aka Nessa) with a massive bag of salt and vinegar crisps, a dodgy flask of coffee, and the radio on. Just watching the world go by.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t Instagrammable. But it was exactly what my brain needed. Space. Quiet. No expectations. Just being.

And that’s what real free time should give you.

A gentle reminder for your back pocket

"Rest is not earned. It’s essential."

Big love
Ria

Chronic crisp-eater, free-time deprogrammer, and proud supporter of doing bugger all when you damn well feel like it

P.S. Next time you find yourself free and feeling weirdly guilty about it, remember this. Your brain isn’t a productivity machine. It’s a garden. And sometimes it needs sunshine and stillness more than anything else.

How You Can Work With Me

If you’ve read this and thought “I need a bit more of that no-nonsense, human-first magic in my life or business,” here’s where we can start this month.

Lead Like You Mean It

If you’re leading people but secretly winging it when it comes to neuroinclusion, it’s showing.

Lead Like You Mean It is our 15-week, no-BS programme that gets you leading like someone your team actually trusts.

You’ll get live training AND group coaching, practical tools you’ll actually use, and conversations that change how you work for good.

Starts 2nd September. Places are limited.

📩 DM me “LEAD” or click here to contact us and grab your spot.

F*ck Stress, Stay Blessed Gratitude Diary

For the next 2 weeks only, my 6-month digital Gratitude Diary is just £9 (usually £19.99).

Built for brains like ours, it’s quick, no-fake-positivity, no long essays, just prompts you’ll actually answer. Use it on your phone, laptop, or print it out and scribble to your heart’s content.

Offer ends 25th August 25
Grab it here: Quick Payment Link

About the Author

I’m Ria Jackson, founder of Inclusive Minds UK, award-winning community builder, and your resident gob on a stick when it comes to making neuroinclusion the norm. I’m a neurodifferent veteran, mum to my fabulous “Mini,” and firm believer that honesty, humour, and proper cups of tea can fix a lot of things.

I built Inclusive Minds UK because I was tired of seeing “neuroinclusion” done half-heartedly or only for the people with the loudest voices in the room.

Our work blends lived experience, real talk, and tools that actually work for humans... not just HR tick boxes.

You’ll usually find me speaking at events, training, building communities, or sitting in my car with a bag of crisps and a flask.

Big love,
Ria