Somewhere amongst the exams, deadlines and performance goals, rest became a receipt. As if to say: You may lie down, but only if you’ve done enough to justify it. But what is enough?
An undefined number of tasks, emotional labour, mental contortion, social smiling, inbox clearing and maybe – if time allows it – a small mental breakdown before dinner. Then, and only then, may you rest. Briefly and with much guilt. Probably with your phone still in your hand.
This, of course, is not sustainable. It is also, not rest.
I grew up in the Cult of Productivity. The society in which busy is always good and burnout means you’re really trying. Rest was something other people earned: Olympic athletes, company CEO’s, my parents.
Me? I hadn’t earned it yet, so keep moving and keep achieving.
But bodies are inconvenient, they wilt and they ache, they turn of whether you give them permission to or not. And lately, mine has been. Experiencing joint pain at a young age is frustrating and limiting, so since moving away for Uni, I’ve started allowing myself softness. No pressure to be constantly moving, constantly doing. Just… a break.
Trying to practice rest without receipt is difficult when you’ve never given yourself the space to do so before. It comes with a lot of guilt and ‘I should’ve been doing this instead of watching that movie’ or ‘this could’ve been done ages ago’. My brain, in its capitalist choreography always wants to know what I did to deserve that 10am lie in or the 3 extra episodes of Bob’s burgers before starting my essay.
The answer?
I exist.
That’s it.
I woke up this morning, I felt what its like to live in a body that’s really trying, and that alone is worth the rest.
You don’t have to do a million and one things to justify sitting down for five minutes because the smartest people know when to listen to their body and just rest.
Yes, the Olympic athletes and CEO’s do more than I ever will in a day, but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve the same rest. It doesn’t mean I’m failing or I’m falling behind, we live our lives at separate paces.
I don’t mean to glorify doing nothing. Rest is not glamorous or aesthetic. It’s not a foamed iced coffee in a cute lounge set with lo-fi music in the background. Sometimes, rest is lying on the floor in the same clothes you’ve worn all day with the same song playing over and over just because it doesn’t try to make you feel something. Rest can be ugly and boring, but its necessary. And slowly, I and many others like me, are learning that rest doesn’t have to be earned, it can just be taken. Like a breath. Like a seat on the bus. Like unpredicted sunlight. Just take it.
You are simply growing, just like everyone else. And that is enough.
xoxo Sara