Letters #03: I'm exhausted, but rest makes me feel guilty
On reconceptualising rest
“We must believe we are worthy of rest. We don’t have to earn it. It is our birthright. It is one of our most ancient and primal needs.”
― Tricia Hersey, Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto
Situation:
I burn the candle at both ends and I know that now I’m starting to get worn out. Not in a dramatic burnout kind of way, but like a slow erosion. I’m exhausted, and I keep hearing about rest and meditation and things like that, but as my friends say, I don’t know how to sit still. Whenever I have tried to meditate or slow down, it feels like a guilty waste of time and I am zoned back out in minutes. I am proud of my achievements and don’t want to stop progressing, but I know somethings gotta give. How can you buy into slowing down if it feels like putting the most important part of you at risk?
Response:
My historical relationship with rest is turbulent at best, but I have thought about it a lot over the last couple of years. Even though we see a lot more recognition of the need for rest and wellbeing these days, I’d suggest that capitalist modern society still has a firm grasp on our conceptions. More specifically, the system we are in facilitates a focus on production in some way, even when it comes to resting. If I’m going to take some time out for me, then it should at least be time on something where I can feel like I’ve made some sort of quantifiable progress; like painting a painting, or knitting a garment, or lifting heavy weights. Slowing down is okay when it involves adding a feather to my identity bow and a feeling of accomplishment in some way. Run clubs, pottery, yoga retreats, book clubs, hybrid training, and other hobby-based recreational activities are all the rage these days. It’s not to say that these aren’t excellent ways of energising ourselves and rounding out our otherwise work-heavy lives, but rather that they all, in my opinion, still sufficiently meet some sort of implicit societal assumption of individual output and achievement. That is: ‘Rest’ and ‘balance’ are sexy when they still adhere to the primacy of capitalist production.
Far less sexy, for the internalised-overdoer, is resting by protecting more time for sleep at night; napping; lying around; drinking more water; meditating, or hanging out on the couch with a friend, talking about nothing and sipping on some tea. These types of things, I think, are the ones that are more likely to prod us internally; to nag at the back of our minds until the inner angst of being unproductive is more overwhelming than the desire for rest itself. In a time where a label of ‘overachiever’ is seldom considered in the negative, the prospect of doing something purely for rest and wellbeing purposes—not contributing in some way or another to a further goal or anticipatory slice of identity—can be incredibly challenging to accept. Suffice it to say, maybe we first need some self-compassion in acknowledging that the overarching environments that we live in—capitalist, individualistic, with most others’ lives perceived through sliced-and-diced social media lenses—can make it quite difficult to embrace restfulness and presence with open arms.
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Rest as productive
“Being meticulous about sleep is something that only a very dull or defeated person would care about. As a result, we start to believe many dark things with doomful ease: that our relationship is over, that everyone hates us, that our lives are meaningless and that human existence is a cosmic joke. As Freidrich Nietszche knew, ‘When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.’ We go mad from tiredness long before we notice the role that exhaustion is playing in stealing our sanity.”
— Alain de Botton, A Therapeutic Journey*
I think that for those of us who have deeply internalised the assumption that ‘rest = bad/unproductive/lazy’, it is a giant and unconquerable goal to transition straight into embracing rest. For me, it was far easier to start by first working on reconceptualising rest as productive. Only once I was in a place where I didn’t see rest as guilt-inducing could I then work on trying to release my need for it to feel productive, and start seeking out moments where I can appreciate rest for what it is.
There is a plethora of research showing how important and impactful rest and restful activities, such as meditation, can be on all the other domains of our lives. Research has shown, for example, that sleep has a significant impact on the performance of athletes, with improved sleep both enhancing performance and reducing the likelihood of injury. Studies also show that sleep deprivation negatively impacts cognitive functioning and that regular meditation can help reduce blood pressure. I’ve written before about the surprising rejuvenative power of even a micro-break lasting fewer than ten minutes. Overall, it is broadly accepted that quality rest is beneficial for our overall physical, mental, and emotional well-being.
Accordingly, we might think of restful moments as an opportunity to replenish our energy and maintain a more sustainable routine for ongoing high performance, avoiding burnout. I wonder if a helpful step here might be scheduling in blocks of time for reading a fiction book in bed, engaging in breathwork, or closing the laptop and sitting outside with a cup of tea for a while, just as we might schedule any other kind of productive task. Like all things, it’s probably useful to take restful activities—reading without getting distracted, meditating, sleeping earlier—as skills that require time and effort to be developed. Perhaps we allocate to ourselves smaller rest routines at first, and build on them over time. When we can view rest as productive in this way, it no longer becomes something we have to work for to deserve. Instead, it can be reconceptualised as an antecedent to better outcomes over the long term, which might help to reduce some feelings of guilt when we shut the laptop.
*Side note - this book is my current read and I am thoroughly enjoying it as a philosophical exploration of all things mental health and wellbeing.
Rest as meaningful
I’d suggest the next, more self-actualised layer of experiencing rest involves recognising and appreciating rest itself as a meaningful and whole part of life; and not something otherwise tied to our other pursuits. Maybe this involves giving ourselves permission to rest, not because we have a justification for it, but simply because it calls to us. Maybe it means enjoying the time in which we are doing very little, without keeping a tally in the forefront of our minds of what we are re-energising for or from. Perhaps it involves practising yoga without a mirror (so there is no shape-checking or self-competing); meditating without a timer on; or reading a book without regard for how far into it we can get.
I imagine this way of experiencing rest as more exploratory and present with the process of being, rather than focused on the outcome of the restful processes. For those of us who are embedded in the output-oriented values system of the modern world, though, I don’t know how we can easily get to this level of meaning without probably first going through the latter one; as ‘rest as productivity’ opens the door for a slower pace and opportunity to find moments of appreciation for rest outside of productivity. I remember a mentor of mine talking to me about the journey of yoga in a similar way, where many start doing yoga for its physical benefits, and only once they have practicing for a while do they then become open to yoga’s spiritual and mindful value. Perhaps the journey of rest is often the same: We first embrace it as a mechanism for improvement, before we can take it for what it is.
I’d love to get insights from others on their relationship with rest, and how they might have improved it over time.
Thanks so much for reading my newsletter! I hope you like the new format. I don’t know what I’m doing any more than the next person, so for me, it is more about reflecting and exploring a situation or concept together than offering any kind of concrete answers.
Would you like to submit a situation or question for the ‘Letters’ series? Have an aspect of the human experience you’d like to explore in more depth? Submit anonymously below.
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I mostly write about things I find interesting, and often my writing is a way of clarifying my own learnings and insights. Any views expressed in this newsletter are my own and are not affiliated with any other institution, entity or person. Also, these newsletters contain generalised ideas, and none of this material constitutes professional or specific advice of any kind.