Hi lovelies,
I’m back to thinking about rest again.
A year and a half ago I was reading academic journals on burnout, black feminist writings on rest as an act of resistance, thick self-help books on self-compassion, old theater texts on ‘what it takes,’ and the sacrifices required to become a professional actor. (cue eye roll)
I was thinking a lot about my own rest, or lack thereof. I was experiencing intense bouts of insomnia – unusual, for me – while simultaneously finding that for the first time in my life I was going extended periods of time without physical symptoms of anxiety and stress. I thought the latter was particularly wild, given that my time in London was anything but a stress-free experience.
Anyway, all this is to say – I’ve thought a lot about rest. And I feel like I’m pretty aware now of the traps laid by our overproductive, self-sacrificing culture, and my particular patterns when it comes to veering toward exhaustion and burnout.
I literally teach this shit. And yet. And yet.
Over the last week my body has repeatedly warned me to slow down – warnings which I have then promptly ignored, despite my fancy degree and 20k-word thesis advising otherwise. So I got sick. Really sick. And then when my sickness had abated, and I tried to press forward at the same pace, I began experiencing intense back pain.
Our bodies know. And if we do not listen, they will find other ways to tell us what we need.
CULTURAL TRAPS
A few years ago this would have triggered my shame narratives, as in: Caitlin, you should know better! Who do you even think you are, to be teaching about rest when you can’t even listen to your own body! But this time around, these narratives have been quiet. One gift of my research has been that I understand now just how insidious and alluring our culture’s traps are when it comes to marching us toward that badge of overworking. I know falling prey to those traps is not my fault, that they are designed to trap and lure me back in.
You know how if you’re at a concert, and everyone starts clapping to the beat, you can’t help but clap or tap a toe, too? Or when everyone else starts standing for an ovation, you feel compelled to stand as well?
We are wired for safety and belonging, and to feel part of a group. When everyone around you is overworking, it is nearly impossible not to fall into line. Even if you know better, even if the exhaustion is killing you, it feels safer to do what everyone else is doing, and to try to match their rhythm.
REST & THE ELECTION
I’ve also been thinking about rest in the wake of the election. I was heartened to see folks on my feeds calling for rest before we launch into action. Rest, or a pause, or space enough for us to feel our feelings, before mobilizing. I’m seeing folks of marginalized identities share that rest is part of their resistance strategy.
I LOVE this. And, I’m curious what we all mean when we say we’re going to rest? How are we resting?
If rest is a little word wedged inside restoration, how are we restoring the resources we’ve depleted? How are we restoring our depleted energy, depleted hope, depleted love, depleted optimism?
Restoring our energy might require a different type of rest than restoring our hope, than restoring our love for self and community, than restoring our physical health.
VARIEGATE YOUR REST
Your rest strategy might need to be variegated, is what I’m saying. You will need rest of different colors, patterns, and textures. Notice the difference between how a profound conversation with a good friend restores you, versus a long walk in the woods. I love a good binge, and I’m always up to rewatch the perfection that is Avatar: The Last Airbender, but while this might restore a bit of my energy and perhaps my passion for good storytelling, it doesn’t necessarily fulfill my need for awe and wonder, or energize my activism.
PREPARE FOR REST
If rest and restoration requires a multi-layered approach, then we need to prepare for it. I’ve learned (and I keep learning!) that I can’t just circle a day on my calendar, call it REST DAY, and then show up and expect to recharge automatically like I’ve plugged myself into the wall.
Have you ever set aside a rest day for yourself, and then spent half the day trying to figure out how you were going to rest, before finally giving up in a huff and throwing on the TV, grumbling about how you’ve wasted your precious rest day being indecisive and stuck? (no? just me?)
Because of how deeply conditioned we are into overworking, you might find that you need to plan ahead to properly restore, and part of this plan might be allowing yourself space to transition from doing to being.
You can anticipate that your nervous system may be reluctant to slow down. That’s normal. We’ve taught our nervous systems that doing and busyness is safe, and that slowing down is a threat. You will need to gently re-train your nervous system to detect slowing down as a cue of safety, rather than a cue of danger.
REST IS A PRACTICE
Rest is a practice, and what we practice we can get better at. You do not have to wait for the weekend to practice resting. You can practice right now, for ten seconds:
Shift your attention to your body and your breath. Drop your shoulders. Release your jaw. Soften your eyebrows. Inhale to your fullest capacity — now exhale, slowly. How do you feel? 🙂
Imagine your days peppered with moments like this. As Nap Bishop Tricia Hersey says, “Wherever our bodies are, we can find, snatch, and center rest.” Snatch your rest! As generations of creative changemakers have done before you, and will continue to do so, you can practice rest in small, snatched moments like this one.
5 STAGES OF REST
My Dad recently sent me this article from Irish poet David Whyte, who shares five stages of rest. The whole article is well worth your time reading (consider it your restwork this week!), but I wanted to share these stages with you, because I think they shed light on how we might transition from doing into being:
>> In the first state of rest is the sense of stopping, of giving up on what we have been doing or how have been being.
>> In the second, is the sense of slowly coming home, the physical journey into the body’s uncoerced and unbullied self, as if trying to remember the way or even the destination itself.
>> In the third state is a sense of healing and self-forgiveness and of arrival.
>> In the fourth state, deep in the primal exchange of the breath, is the give and the take, the blessing and the being blessed and the ability to delight in both.
>> The fifth stage is a sense of absolute readiness and presence, a delight in and an anticipation of the world and all its forms; a sense of being the meeting itself between inner and outer, and that receiving and responding occur in one spontaneous moment.
Creative changemakers are being called to receive and respond to this cultural moment – a response-ability – if you will….but that is a topic for our next exchange. 🙂
Love you all tremendously.
Rest & and invite ease this week.
Warmly,
Caitlin
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Did you want to respond to the ideas here? Would you like to read more about this sort of thing? I send call-and-response email newsletters whenever I have the capacity to do so. It’s called “Rest & Love in Creative Living,” and you can join here.