Permission to Daydream and March Hares

Why Slowing Down Matters for Your Mind

Lately, during small windows of reflection, I’ve been pondering a feeling I have – one that involves being constantly busy, forever ticking off that never‑ending to‑do list. Alongside this gnawing, driving sense of must do this, must do that, sits a quiet longing to slow down, to be more present, and to give myself permission to let my brain drift and daydream.

I’ve increasingly noticed this subtle pressure humming in the background, even when I’m standing in a field, on a beach, walking the dog, hanging around with horses, or driving in my car – learn more, share more, do more, achieve more. Yet the deeper desire underneath all that noise is much simpler: to slow down, to go back to a gentler time, to ‘take time to smell the roses’ as my father‑in‑law likes to say; to listen to the birds, notice the blossom on the trees, and watch the Norfolk spring hares frolicking in the fields.

So, in an attempt to be more “in the now,” I’ve stopped automatically reaching for a podcast or audiobook every time I go for a walk or drive. I’ve given myself permission to quieten the nagging feelings that the to‑do list needs constant tending (which is a futile never‑ending activity anyway). I realised that even though I love habits, I’d slipped into a habit of keeping my mind perpetually occupied – my brain always busy, busy, busy. It was time to satisfy my craving for stillness, or at least unstructured mental wandering … the kind I call brain bimbling.

The other day, as I meandered – or rather, was dragged on sniffing patrol – through an old graveyard with Fred my dog, it hit me: I was daydreaming. Properly daydreaming. Something I used to do loads in my youth. Just me and my thoughts, drifting gently from one idea to the next with no agenda, no productivity, no purpose other than letting my brain bimble along. Time spent in my own head being creative, pondering, processing, or just flitting – not in a conscious, directed way, but in a free‑flowing, let my brain bimble kind of way.

It started to make sense. On recent walks, on foot or on horseback, I’d been puzzled by this creeping sense of anxiety, because I don’t view myself as a particularly anxious person. Yes, some of it is surely menopause, but there was more to it. I’d been always switched on – thinking, planning, learning, solving, organising, processing. Before I lost my horse in 2019, I used to spend hours doing simple tasks – picking up poo, pottering around the yard, scratching my pony – little pockets of time where my brain could wander freely. Not hyper‑focused, not absent, just gently bimbling. I hadn’t realised how much of that I’d lost.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped giving myself permission to daydream, to simply be in a moment. What a crime, really. It’s not that my brain is ever quiet (I wish!). The chatter is relentless – I must do this, I must do that, don’t forget this, prepare that ; but that’s not gentle thinking. That’s not wandering. That’s not the relaxed mental ramble that creativity, ideas and wellbeing need.

So, as part of my mission to slow down and be more mindful, I’m choosing to reintroduce daydreaming. To deliberately make time to bimble. To let my thoughts stretch out and unfurl without direction. To let my mind be soft again…

…because here’s the truth: daydreaming matters.

The Science of Daydreaming and Mental “Bimbling” (in a Very Human Way)

Here’s the lovely thing: all this drifting, meandering, pottering‑about‑in-ones-own-head isn’t indulgent at all. In fact, your brain absolutely adores it.

Neuroscientists call daydreaming “mind‑wandering,” and far from being laziness, it’s actually your brain switching into a beautifully intricate, quietly bustling network called the default mode network (DMN). This is the part that lights up when we stop trying so hard and let our thoughts stretch their legs. It turns out this gentle inner bimbling supports all sorts of good things …

✨ Creativity and problem‑solving

When the mind wanders, it starts making playful little leaps between ideas that would never meet during “serious thinking.” Research shows we often solve more creative problems after a period of unfocused drifting. It’s in those floaty, untethered moments that ideas nudge each other, combine, or suddenly bloom.

✨ Emotional processing and resilience

The DMN is where we quietly sort through our emotional cupboards – our memories, hopes, worries and desires. Daydreaming helps us gently sift, file, rehearse and make sense of things. It’s like mental pottering: not dramatic but deeply organising.

✨ Reduced stress and a calmer nervous system

When we stop stuffing our brains with input – podcasts, notifications, checklists—our nervous system sighs with relief. Cortisol softens, breathing steadies, and the body shifts from doing to simply being. Brain bimbling is basically an internal long exhale.

✨ A stronger sense of self and direction

We often daydream about little “what ifs”: future conversations, adventures, goals, possibilities. Psychologists say this spontaneous imagining helps shape our sense of identity and strengthens the inner compass we use to navigate life.

So no, daydreaming isn’t wasting time

It’s essential maintenance. It’s creativity fertiliser. It’s the brain taking a gentle wander down a country lane.

Next time you find yourself staring out of a window, lost in a little flight of fancy, smile. Your brain is quietly giving itself a service, and honestly, it’s been waiting for that moment.

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Hare sitting still in an open field