For humans who are ready to reclaim their mojo, their play, and their life force — one deliciously pointless act at a time

The Pointless Experiment is a 10-day rebellion against purpose, where you do things for no reason other than your own damn joy — no outcome, no permission, no point.

Just play.

Because you want to

This isn’t a sales page. This is a love letter to your numbed parts. A story that found me by the window — and might just find you too…

I lay, numb and unmoving, by the bay window to my garden. 

I stared at the fallen leaves caressing my garden floor. The branches waving in the wind, dropping their clothes like golden rain. Squirrels scurrying across the garden, preparing for winter. A little deer came in, walked across the garden, stared me in the eyes, walked towards me, then turned and left. 

It was a beautiful scene, 

And I felt semi-dead.

I had enough parts work, as both a client and practitioner, to know that a part, a deeply frozen part, had taken over. 

Immobile, catatonic, feeling so cold, but with my mind alive, and I searched for that part. Where are you? I asked? 

Within a couple of minutes, I saw it. 

A little person shrugged its shoulders like “yup, I’m here. So what?”

Self: What’s your name? 

It: What’s the point? 

Self: Is that your name?

It: What’s the point of a name? 

Self: aha, I see. Well. I just wanted to know what to call you. 

It: Why? So you can ignore me again? 

Self: ha. I’ve been ignoring you? 

It: Yes. You’ve ignored me all your life. I’ve been here, with her (points at a corpse next to him), but you couldn’t see us before. 

I don’t know why, but now you do. 

Self: Yes, I do. 

(feeling sorry for this sorry sight)

Tell me things. 

It: What's the point? You only ever want to hear what you want to hear. And you never want to hear that there is no point. You only want to hear positive things, not that everything is useless and a waste of time. 

Futile. Completely bloody futile

Self: Hm. You’re right……. 

I’m sorry……was it you I heard the other day asking me if I am ready to listen?

It: (shrugs like, yeah, what of it.)  

Self: Well, I’m here now. I’m listening now. 

It: (shrugs again, very teenage-like attitude, but seems much younger than that) 

What’s the point

Self: (I'm taken by how devastatingly sad and dejected this part is. It seems like a child, but oh so old, shrouded in black, hunched, broken. 

Self: (after quite some time) 

What if there was no point? 

It: (confused) What do you mean, what if there was no point? 

Self: I mean, what if there was no point? What if it wasn’t about having a point? What if it was just about being? That’s it. That’s the point with no point. 

It: (starts sitting up from its sulky position for the first time, like - tell me more) 

Self: (emboldened by this animation) What if you stopped searching for a point? What if that search is getting you down? What if we agree together that there is no point? What then?

It: (moving now, like it’s had a gigantic eureka flash lightning moment)

Self: What would you do if you didn’t have to ask that anymore? 

It: You mean what if I did things and they didn’t need to have a point? 

That I do them because I want to? 

Self: Yes, exactly - just being and doing because you want. 

It: I can’t believe it. 

(it's now wizzing around like it's had a ton of sugar and 70 amphetamine pills) 

I feel so freeeeeee. 

(doing cartwheels of celebration)

Self: (crying crying crying - I now see the oh so young child, restored to its childlike wonder)

It: I wonder what to do first?

Self (after sobbing for a while but returning to life, to warmth, to movement) 

I bet some other people would love to do pointless things with us. I bet loads of people would love to do things just because they really want to, not for any other reason, excuse or permission. 

It: (now bouncing off the imaginal walls, delirious at this outrageous but oh so delicious idea) 

Yes, yes, yes - let’s do it. Let’s invite people to do it with us. Oh, this will be SO much fun.

Let’s goooooooooooo

Welcome to the pointless experiment: 

The story above? That happened. For real.

Welcome to a very normal day in my inner world — me, myself, and I, having a little showdown by the window with a part of me that had gone completely offline.

I’m Rola. A recovering workaholic, impact junkie, and purpose slave.
I’ve been the Good Doctor, the World Saver, the Queen of Making It All Happen And I’ve done some pretty incredible shit.

And then... I burnt out.

Badly.

And went on a massive healing journey that was the worst and best thing I ever did.

For 5 years, I have journeyed with Sufi meditation, prayer, Qigong, somatic therapy, Internal Family Systems therapy, psychedelics, and breathwork, to mention the useful things. I also tried a bizillion things that were meh.

Anyways, I digress.

So, of course, being an over-responsible person who still couldn’t bear to not be useful, I started helping others who, like me, were going through burnout and trauma recovery journeys.

Which brings me to today, well, this month, where I wondered — where the fuck is my mojo gone?

I mean, I don’t want to brag about it, but I have been called the life and soul of the party on literally too many occasions to keep a count.

When did I stop dancing?

More to the point, when did I stop dancing and caring that no one was watching?

When did everything need to be either useful, helpful, effective or pointful?

Why was I struggling to play with my 5-year-old, who can literally do pointless things all day long and seems to be extremely pleased with herself?

When did the muchness of what I do become not good enough, no matter how epic it was?

When did things have to be epic to be a thing worth talking about?

When I started to ask myself, “What do I really want?”

“What turns me on?” And not necessarily sexually, but also...

I was met with a vast silence.

Tumbleweed .....

across a desert.

Blank.

Nada.

Zip.

Ha.

Curious, I thought.

I’m definitely onto something here because I’ve never not known what I want to do.

Or have I????

Have I sometimes/often/always mistaken duty, obligations, responsibilities (ahem, read: way over-responsible here), the endless quest to make a difference and serve, with what I truly wanted to do?

I don't think it’s as simple as that.

But one thing is for sure:

I've almost always done things (in my professional life mostly, but also in personal) because of an outcome, a result, a point!

Purpose-driven, check.

Service-led, check.

Heart-centred, check.

Difficulty relaxing and doing NOTHING, check

Mojo, play and joy-oriented? Ermmmmmmm... NOPE!

I’ve long stopped doing things for the sheer pleasure, the pure joy, for the unadulterated reason of:

"Because I fu(king want to, and that’s it. Ok?"

So, people. Ma people.

If you’re nodding vigorously (or know someone who might nod vigorously — pass this on), come and play with me.

For 10 days straight, we will do pointless things.

The only criterion is that it's because we want to.

Because YOU — your body, mind, heart, soul, or spirit — guided you to do it.

Just for the fun of it, just for the hell of it, mmmmm just for the smell of it.

This will be a fun journey of discovery, of listening deeply and connecting to ourselves in a far more profound and meaningful way than you have till now.

We are about to truly nourish ourselves.

Not nourishment as food.

Not nourishment as fuel.

Not nourishment to keep the lights on, nor to meet our potential, blah blah blah — though they might be that too.

But nourishment of the most profound sort, the kind that is responding to our deepest yearning, desires, and wants.

Shame-free.

Guilt-free.

With full bells, whistles, and a gazillion permission slips.

But only one other rule (hehe — I lied, there is one other one):

No being mean. No hurting someone. No “I want to do this and I don’t give a fu(k if this damages you, other being.”

No damaging other beings, ok?

We aren't here to wound others; we are here to reclaim our sovereignty, our mojo, our playfulness.

But you obviously have full permission to put people’s noses out of joint and ruffle some feathers.

In fact, I'd be a little disappointed if you/we/us didn't upset a couple of apple carts. Because let's face it, that's often why we don't do things that are pointless or purely based on “I want to” — we worry what people will think, how they will react. They have known us for so long as the one who gives and barely takes, the one who nourishes but does so from a half-full cup at best. We are the givers, the saviours, the ones who put everyone and everything else first, including purpose! 

There is so much stigma and shame around pleasure and play, like it's blasphemous.

Well, I am a woman of God, and the God that I believe in is beautiful. He/She created these incredible worlds full of magic, glory, and unbelievable beauty.

If we orient ourselves to what's joyful and deeply pleasurable, we aren't being irresponsible; we are building our resilience, fortifying ourselves, and we are reminded of the potential and possibility that is available to us in every moment — limitless potential that we often forget, like I did today, half frozen by my window.

So let's explore. Let's go wild. 

Let's get intimate with our deepest yearnings. 

(hehe, she says with a slightly naughty glint of mischief in her eye, rubbing her hands together in glee, wondering “how much fun is legally allowed? Hmmmm... does it even have to be legal?”)

(No rules here on this, I’ll leave that with you ;)

Details: 

We start: November 21st (Because I want to.)

 Where: Private Telegram group

 Cost: £10 (Again... because I want to)

 What you’ll get: Daily prompts, playful rebellion, a chance to do something utterly pointless and wildly freeing

 Optional: Share your daily pointless act — however big or small 1

 If you have outrageous, barely-legal fun: You’ll be invited to a secret group to keep going (because... obviously)