Dreaming of Rest

If you’re feeling wound up as 2024 winds down, you’re not alone. Here’s why I believe that rest shouldn’t be an afterthought, but a habit that sustains us.

Burnout in 2017 forced me to reassess my tendency to deliver at all costs, no matter the deadline or demands; my inclination to doubt myself rather than question my environment. I began taking steps (small, at first) to create a life that was more aligned with what I needed to be—and stay—well. This included, among other things, a lot of rest.

I’d bought into the notion that rest was an afterthought (‘you must deserve rest’), when it should be a before and a during. We must remember to rest not because we’ve become desperate for it, but because it offers constant solace; because rest feeds us.

And yet when the opportunity comes to rest, it can bring on a disconcerting restlessness.

Habituated to the adrenaline of constant activity, we may find that we have forgotten how to rest. Exhausted, we struggle to sleep; aspiring to stay offline, we repeatedly turn to our phones or binge-watch a series; intending to be healthier, we may feel overwhelmed by cravings or drink more than we intended (especially at this time of year).

The ‘risk’ of rest

Initially, prioritising rest may feel like a risk. It will require some faith. A common fear seems to be that resting, or just slowing down, means that we won’t succeed (or that someone else will), or that our family/business/economy/world will fall apart. Without realising it, we may have begun to value only what can be monetised and undervalue what can’t, forgetting how contrary this is to our wellbeing and that of our planet.

And so we continue to go-go-go, often at a pace not matched by our capacity, which is saying no-no-no.

Yet the paradox (but not the point) of resting, is that we become more productive—especially in the things that matter to us. Rested, we access more presence and clarity. We see what energises or drains us. From a rested place, we become more receptive: things either fall away, or fall into place. We experience the gifts of sometimes letting it happen instead of always making it happen.

How to rest

Start with compassion. Your nervous system has become used to the busy you, but can settle again, if given the opportunity. Sit or lie for five minutes with the discomfort of being still; then a little longer. Go at the right pace for you, until your baseline has shifted.

Try open monitoring. This form of meditation involves witnessing your thoughts with curiosity—and without any obligation to stop them. Evidence suggests that, with practice, the technique helps reduce distraction.

Ask yourself: Is this thought/habit/environment supporting me to slow down? Even if you continue as you were, you’ll be building self-awareness (and change may come along and surprise you).

Understand your rest requirements. Some of us need more rest than others; there is no shame in this. Know that your rest cycles may change during different life events and phases.

Spend time outside. Keep it simple. Let the natural world work her magic on you.

Rest to rise

Meditation teacher Octavia Raheem writes: “Whatever and whoever can keep you tired, can control you. Rest and restore your power.” Rest is not weak, but very strong.

It requires solid boundaries and immense courage to take rest in a modern world.

As we reacclimatise to our right to feel rested, we may find ourselves emboldened, even rebellious. We may opt out of exploitative systems that don’t allow us (or others) to slow down. Today, I know that I want to express myself through my work and know who I am without it. I trust that if it feels like too much, then it probably IS.

 


 

This article was originally published in Wild Getaways (Edition 1, 2024). A huge thank you to my coach/counsellor Dr Ronelle Joubert (Professional Therapeutic Coaching), Kirsten “Kaye” Wilkinson (Legacy Motion) and Amanda Hannah (SomaPsych) for helping me to understand my own rest needs.

P.S. I also had A LOT of fun writing this light-hearted take on customer (dis)service in a small town in the same edition of the magazine.

PHOTO: Bob Brewer/Unsplash