On Rest
On rest
“You were not just born to center your entire existence on work and labor. You were born to heal, to grow, to be of service to yourself and community, to practice, to experiment, to create, to have space, to dream, and to connect.”
― Tricia Hersey, Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto
I don’t know if it is serendipity or a slow subconscious pull that has me simultaneously reading two books on rest over the past few months.. After writing my last blog post and getting deeper into Tricia Hersey’s book on rest, I see a resonance that feels like a small tug of the universe saying, ‘see, I told you’. To briefly explain my interpretation of her words, which is no doubt imperfect and seen through my lens as a white woman in America -“ it is a beautiful and convincing plea that rest is about more than our physical bodies. It is an act of preserving the soul.”
In her book, Tricia lists many types of rest, some active, some passive. The central theme is that all types of rest get us out of the money making and spending loop, the hustle and performance. Rest in the broad sense can open up the freedom for us to be ourselves and with ourselves in both mind and body. Rest allows for creativity, dreaming, and joy. Her words resonate for me in large part because this is what I have experienced, too.
About 7 years ago, when I was deeply burned out (though I was not fully aware of it), I happened to sign up for an introductory meditation course with my best friend. Some people cringe or laugh when stories start this way, but whatever your internal reaction, it is my truth. That class was the beginning of a new life for me. That is no exaggeration. I have been practicing meditation and other contemplative practices ever since, in large part because they have allowed me to rest. When I sit down to meditate, I can see the busy and anxious thoughts in my mind, my to-do list, and not react. Many of us think that the faster we go, the more we get crossed off our list, the better we feel. That has not been my experience. Slowing down, recognizing that many of those to-dos are not life or death, that has been my new power. A space to choose where to spend my time. A space to let some balls drop. This skill and practice has flowed over into my life, to the point that I have more choice in where I pay attention, and the quality of attention I bring to each moment.
But lately, I’ve been trying to explore the other parts of rest that she discusses. Daydreaming. I loved this as a kid. And I’m learning to see daydreaming as a way of understanding what I want in life. It opens up an energy of possibility and gets me out of what can sometimes feel like the stuckness of right now. It can be a place of inspiration and hope. Two things the world needs.
It's important for me to not overlook the deep premise of Tricias message, even though it may not land comfortably for everyone. Much of her writing describes how rest resists the violence that can come with capitalism. I can’t say I know enough about capitalism or its alternatives to write about it intelligently here. But what I observe that we have and continue to extract and destroy nature, take land and resources away from people who are not in power, and use these steps to grow wealth for certain people. And I have always known that that doesn’t seem like the way I want to be in the world. For over ten years I have worried about how my role as a consumer indirectly causes harm to humans, animals and the planet. It's an ongoing struggle in this world that is riddled with injustice and inhumane practices that are normalized. But her book reminds me that that dream, to not have to buy clothes or food that directly harms someone else, is not lost. It may be difficult, or even impossible, to do perfectly. But it doesn’t make it futile and it doesn’t make me wrong for trying.
In healthcare, we have created a system that doesn’t always take great care of patients, and sometimes makes healthcare workers sick, burned out, etc. We know that physicians who cut back to part time and take their vacation decrease their likelihood of burnout. I also know physicians who love their work, they don’t want to do less of what they love, but maybe they can do less of what they don’t love and have time for rest, too. And while many things contribute to clinician burnout and other types of ill-being, I think one of the major problems is that our system doesn’t value rest.
Yes, sleep and sleep schedules are clearly a challenge when taking care of sick folks. Someone has to be up at night. But beyond the circadian clock, our current system makes rest so hard. Once again, this is not about just physical rest, but also the rest of getting to think quietly about a problem, be present with patients, be present with our own emotions related to this important and challenging work. A quiet moment to reflect on what we appreciate, the impact we can have for our patients, the ways they have touched our hearts. These are all types of rest.
Something I really appreciate in Tricia’s book is that she advocates for folks to rest now. Not waiting for systems or institutions to change. Starting small. Looking out the window for 5 minutes. Closing your eyes in a brief meditation. A couple minutes of daydreaming. A brief nap after work. Sipping warm tea. A break from social media. These sound trite when we write them down, but I, like Tricia, think they can be powerful.
And yet, how many of us have or make time for this in our days at work? One could argue that there isn’t time for these things. I don't doubt that there are people whose practices and workflows make it feel impossible to slow down. AND. As I’ve been exploring rest and space for the past few years, I have found that often there is more space and time than I see on first glance. More than I let myself do. It requires setting down my phone, and closing my computer. It requires knowing which balls are safe to drop. For me, sometimes it also means just being alone for a few minutes. Getting some quiet. Not being productive.
Our bodies and minds are not machines and they are not meant to be going all the time. I worry that the pace and cadence that we have normalized within medicine is in itself harmful to our mental and physical well-being. I also know that some are so used to it, slowing down literally hurts. I’ve been there, too. When I first started meditating, at times it was excruciating. I would think of something undone and would have to literally hold my body back from getting up to do it. It felt like something inside me would explode. The energy and normative habit of doing, doing, doing was a strong physical and psychological pull. It was like I had no choice. I still feel that way sometimes.
I sense this is what some of my friends and colleagues feel when they say they don’t like relaxing or don’t know what to do with downtime. I’m not in their bodies so I can’t know for sure. But I think its possible that when we’ve been conditioned to go, go, go, it can feel extremely uncomfortable to do something different. I say all this, because I know that rest doesn’t feel good to everyone. And maybe we are wired differently. Or, maybe we are conditioned to feel bad when we rest. If that is the case, then perhaps a part of our work is to rest, despite the discomfort. Learn how to rest. And see if it offers something we have lost or are missing.
In considering and writing all of this, it feels important and in my integrity to get serious about ways that I can intentionally lean more into rest, imagination, and creativity. Taking a page out of Tricia’s book, I’m taking a social media sabbatical. I’m not sure how long, probably a few months. I realize that social media is a way to connect my work with those looking for coaching or well-being resources, but I also am aware that time on social media interferes with other priorities in my life. So we will see how it goes and what comes of it. I’d love to connect in other spaces - my website, via email, or through my group or 1:1 offerings.
Wishing you a moment of rest,
Sarah