In our community we often explore how to live more consciously and compassionately. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on something that feels both simple and profound — the practice of rest.
- Are you longing for more rest?
- And when you do rest, do you sometimes feel guilty?
These questions have been on my mind for quite a while. I think back to the years when my days were full of work, family, doing, doing, doing. I was disconnected from my need for rest. It really struck me about 25 years ago when I left a fulfilling and demanding leadership position to focus on consulting full time. In those first few weeks with more flexibility and space, I found myself lying down for a moment and waking up two hours later. My body knew I needed rest.
Years later, I was forced to rest when I was diagnosed with a serious illness during the pandemic. I was deeply fatigued and needed several rest periods each day. I felt guilty for not doing more, for not being more productive. Accepting my limited capacity was difficult.
Around this time, I came across this painting Afternoon: Yellow Room by Frederick C. Frieseke, and it brought me comfort. The softness and quiet of the scene felt like invitations to rest. A reminder that rest is holy.
Why it is so difficult to accept we need rest and then to rest?
I think of women, especially women of my generation, who were shaped by an achievement-oriented culture. We wanted to contribute, to do well, to make a difference. And in doing this it came at a cost. This quote from Nedra Glover Tawwab continues to resonate for me:
“There is always something else we can do, and we can feel the urge to try to do it all, but the fact is we can’t. If you are responsible, hardworking, and productive, you will likely die with a to-do list.” Doing too Much
As I explored this topic more deeply, I began noticing podcasts and books about rest. I was drawn to the work of The Nap Ministry and Tricia Hersey, author of Rest is Resistance. Hersey invites us to “ imagine a new world: one in which we subvert the narrative of productivity at all costs and embrace rest as a healing spiritual practice”.
She writes:
‘It has always been about more than taking a full nap. My rest as a Black woman in America suffering from generational exhaustion and racial trauma always was a political refusal and social justice uprising within my body. I took to rest and naps and slowing down as a way to save my life, resist the systems telling me to do more and most importantly as a remembrance to my Ancestors who had their DreamSpace stolen from them’.
Yes, rest can take many forms.
For me, sometimes it is sitting in a chair with a cup of tea and being. Sometimes napping after lunch – which both my parents did – and now I understand why.
Other times it is a practice like Yoga Nidra, also known as yogic sleep, a deeply restorative form of rest that calms the body and mind. As Tracee Stanley of Radiant Rest reminds us ‘Deep rest is our birthright. Creating opportunities to practice intentional rest, whether in solitude or in community, is a healing balm that awakens us to the power of our soul’.
I know that for many – single mothers, caregivers and others in challenging circumstances – finding this time seems impossible. But even five quiet minutes of intentional rest can slow things down and nourish our well being.
As I was putting this post together a memory popped up on FB from three years ago at this time. This is what I had posted.
May we give ourselves the grace to attend to our need for rest, knowing it is a gift for ourselves and others.
- What helps you give yourself permission to rest?
- And what kind of rest is your body and soul asking for at this moment?
I always love to hear from you via email.
Check out Nedra and ‘doing too much’ here. And the Nap Ministry here.
