Episode 21: Your Brain Is a Puppy: Give It a Chew Toy

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You cleared the calendar. You created white space on purpose, but now your brain is filling that space with worry, busywork, or impulse clicks—and you’re wondering why rest feels so weird.

In this episode, I share what’s really going on when we feel restless in the quiet, why your brain instinctively reaches for drama, perfectionism, or dopamine and what you can offer it instead.

We’ll talk about the neuroscience behind this “vacuum effect,” the kinds of low-pressure focus that actually help, and one of my favorite mindset tools for building direction without sliding back into hustle.

What You'll Learn

• Why your brain doesn’t always interpret white space as peace and what it does instead
• The science behind your brain’s default behavior when there’s nothing to solve
• How to spot the difference between real presence and reactivity disguised as productivity
• What a “gentle chew toy” is and how it can help you refocus without forcing structure
• Why direction (not discipline) is often the most effective form of support

Episode Transcript

We adopted a puppy last Saturday. His name is Milo, and he’s a ten-month-old maltipoo. He is little and scrappy and extremely cute, and very much still a puppy.

Within the first hour of being home, he was wild, jumping, barking, bouncing off the walls. He startled my daughter and overwhelmed me a bit too.

Since we had jumped at the chance to adopt him without much notice or planning time, we quickly realized we didn’t have anything for him to chew. No bone, no squeaky toy, no tug of war rope. So my daughter and I ran to Target, grabbed a few toys, and as soon as we gave him one, he calmed waaaaaay down. His little body relaxed. His focus locked in. He finally had something to do. His job, in that moment, was clear: Chew this.

And I was thinking this morning: my brain is just like Milo. It goes crazy if I don’t give it something to chew on.

So today we’re talking about what happens when your brain has some free time and creates problems that you don’t even need to solve because that’s just what brains do. And I’ll share how you can gently offer your brain something more productive than chewing up your self-worth or your peace of mind.

Let’s get into it.

SEGMENT 1: WHAT THE BRAIN DOES WITH A VACUUM

Alright, so let’s say you’ve cleared the calendar, you said no, you followed through, you made space on purpose. But instead of feeling peaceful or grounded, your brain kicks into overdrive. Suddenly you’re spinning. Searching. Chewing on thoughts that don’t actually need your attention.

What’s happening? It’s not that you’re bad at resting. Or that you need more discipline. It’s that your brain doesn’t know what to do with the quiet. And that’s not a character flaw. It’s design.

There’s actually a term for what your brain is doing when the external noise fades. It’s called the Default Mode Network. This is the part of your brain that lights up when you’re not actively focused on something—like when you’re driving, folding laundry, or sitting in silence.

And its job is to fill that space with thoughts. Usually about you. Your past. Your future. That thing you said. That thing you should’ve said. What someone else might be thinking about you. What might go wrong next week..

It’s not trying to hurt you. But left on autopilot, it tends to serve up rumination, self-criticism, and all kinds of unnecessary “what if” spirals.

That’s why the space you worked hard to create—cleared time, quiet mornings, a slower season—can suddenly feel emotionally noisy. It’s not the space that’s the problem. It’s that your brain doesn’t yet trust it.

Usually this plays out for me in one of three ways.

Sometimes my brain grabs drama. I’ll find myself replaying an awkward conversation, or interpreting one of my kids’ moods as a signal that something’s wrong. I’ll start questioning a decision I felt totally good about a few hours ago—just because my brain is looking for something to solve.

Other times it grabs perfectionism. I’ll get this urge to optimize something that’s fine. I’ll find myself reworking our evening routine or editing something that doesn’t need editing—because creating structure feels safer than sitting still.

And when I’m tired or overstimulated and have space, it grabs pleasure. I’ll scroll. I’ll snack. I’ll click between tabs, re-read an old email, or open the fridge for the third time—because my brain wants a dopamine hit to fill the stillness.

So if this happens to you too, you’re not alone. And nothing has gone wrong.

So instead of leaving our brains to their own devices and letting them go crazy, let’s talk about what chew toy we can offer our brains instead.

SEGMENT 2: GIVE IT A CHEW TOY, BUT MAKE IT NOURISHING

So, first things first, when your brain hits the vacuum and starts grabbing for whatever’s nearby, just notice. Notice if the vacuum is getting filled with chaos or tasks that aren’t aligned with what matters to you right now. This is your signal that your brain might need a better chew toy.

And I want to be really clear here, this is not about managing your time down to the minute.
Some of you thrive in unstructured space. You love the slow mornings, the spontaneous Saturday, the flowy afternoons. And if that’s working for you, truly, there’s nothing to fix.

This is for the moments when you’ve created space on purpose…but the space starts getting filled with distractions, reactivity, or a pile of tasks that don’t reflect your actual priorities.

That’s when it’s time to give your brain a better option.

The kind of chew toy that works best is usually low-stakes but gently meaningful.

It gives your brain a bit of structure, but not a full agenda.
It invites focus, but not urgency.
It says: Here’s a direction, not here’s a deadline.

This is super important because the chew toy has to be at least a little bit delightful to you so that you have the motivation to take action.

One of my favorite brain chew toys is something I call a big gentle goal.

This is especially helpful for my clients who’ve stepped out of a high-demand season or intentionally simplified their schedule—but are now feeling a little untethered by the slower pace.

They’re no longer operating at full tilt, but they also don’t want to drift.

A big gentle goal gives them something real to reach toward in the space without the performance pressure.

It’s not a “prove it” goal.
It’s not a “should” goal.
It’s not about getting somewhere fast.

It’s about creating a soft point of focus. Something their brain can nibble on. Something that feels grounded in who they are now—not who they were when everything was urgent.

For example, you could explore a future business idea—not to launch it, just to write about it, shape it, imagine what's possible.

You could set a weekly strategic thinking hour—no agenda, just space to zoom out and stay in relationship with your bigger picture

Or you could learn one new thing that supports your long game—a course, a certification, a deep dive into a topic that matters to your 10-year vision

Now, sometimes I hear, “I don’t want another goal. I just want peace.”

And I completely get that.

But here’s what I’ve come to believe:
Peace isn’t the absence of motion.
It’s the presence of something meaningful to hold.

A big gentle goal doesn’t disrupt your peace.
It anchors it.
It gives your brain a clear, steady rope to follow—so it’s not chewing on your self-worth or peace of mind.

This isn’t about getting things done. It’s about guiding energy that would otherwise spiral.

SEGMENT 3: CONCLUSION

So let’s come back to Milo for a minute.

All it took was a chew toy—something small and specific—and his whole energy shifted.

He didn’t need discipline. He didn’t need to calm down. He just needed somewhere to put all that instinct and energy. Something to focus on. Something that wasn’t us.

Our brains are the same.

When we don’t give them something to chew, they’ll grab what’s closest—whether that’s an old thought loop, a random task, or a shiny new project we didn’t actually want.

But we don’t need to fight that. We just need to work with it.

To offer our brains something that reflects what we actually care about. Something steady. Something soft. Something slightly compelling.

So here’s one simple question to take with you:

What’s one nourishing chew toy I can offer my brain this week?

It doesn’t have to be big.
It doesn’t have to be impressive.
I just recommend that it delight you a little bit.

And if this kind of work speaks to you—if you’ve already made space in your life but you’re not sure how to hold it—this is exactly the kind of thing I help my coaching clients with.

We don’t just talk about time management or mindset.

We look at how your brain is wired, what season you’re in, and what direction feels most aligned with who you are now.

So if you're craving a space where you can think clearly, reflect deeply, and take calm, meaningful action—I’d love to support you.

Thanks for being here.