What is rest?
I could use a course on doing nothing.
When I left my corporate job two weeks ago, I told myself I would take six weeks to rest. Instead, I am checking items off my to-do list like examining new options for health insurance coverage and scheduling some year-end appointments. I am exercising and cleaning closets. I am cooking, so that’s good. I used a gift card for a massage, which brought me to the brink of rest about ten minutes before it ended. But all in all, what I’ve been doing should be categorized as productivity. Not as rest.
I do not know how to rest.
For some people, resting is inherent to their nature. My husband can finish a meeting, saunter over to our daybed, and fall asleep like a house cat baking in the afternoon sun. Some of my girlfriends will lose hours of their lives rewatching scripted reality series from 2008. We are not the same. I finish one task and immediately see the next one.
I am not proud of this toxic personality trait. Not anymore, at least. Maybe I was proud when I drove straight from my college graduation in Florida to New York City to begin law school three months early, but that was during the come-up of *hustle culture.* Back then, achievement was always just one checkmark away; now, I know, neither refusing time off nor accomplishing granular tasks like putting away all the laundry before bed has any correlation to success. Yet, I am still here, worrying about what will happen if I don’t finish, even though I know the answer is nothing. Nothing will happen.
Psychologists call this anxiety. Duh. I keep busy as a coping mechanism to feel a sense of control over the things I cannot control. With age – and children – I have a harder time handling this. I have more to do and less control. My lists trail on with no beginning or end, indefinite reminders to keep toiling over the stupid and the serious with no distinction between the two.
For sure, I’m not the only one. Last week, Dr. Connie Kassor went viral for Tweeting about the popularity of her university course, “Doing Nothing.” Students must show up, put their phones away, and meaningfully participate in exercises such as mindful waking, deep listening, tai chi, and meditation. The course has the highest enrollment at the university. Despite some criticism over the notion of paying for college credits to learn how to do less, the substance is no joke. Many of us are banging the proverbial doors down, begging for breaks we can’t give ourselves. We exist in the most connected social and business environments ever, which are fighting for our vigilance and attention at all times. I felt this way even before iPhones, back when projects and final exams kept me up through the night. I can’t imagine what it must be like for students now. At least as a parent, my physical exhaustion kicks in and lulls me unconscious.
In one of my first newsletters, I wrote about the distinction between nostalgia and longing. Of course, I would never wish to return to the early days of 2020, but I do sometimes feel nostalgic for the way our lives simplified into an automated loop of work, family, and self-care. For a brief time, we were allowed to really bring self-care to the table and had the space to ask ourselves what we needed and explore new ways to satisfy those needs. I’m not sure if it’s because productivity expectations have returned to normal, or because my girls have gotten older and are busier, too, but every morning, a timer ticks down in my brain from the second they leave until the second they need to be picked up. How much can I do in the next seven hours—can I finish it all?
Faced with the demands to exist at full capacity, I’ve managed to fill the time I’ve gotten back with even more to do.
But sometimes, your body says what you mind cannot. My three year old had been coughing in my mouth, so it wasn’t a surprise when I started feeling sick last Thursday. I was really looking forward to the weekend, so I did something I would never do when about to run an afternoon of errands: I turned the car around and went home. I cancelled my dinner plans. I took a ton of vitamins and didn’t exercise for three days. I fought it off and felt better.
Rest makes you better. Rest is good. Wouldn’t that make a perfect ending, me learning my lesson?
I wish I did.
However, people are not that simple. Acknowledging a character flaw is only the first step to making meaningful change. For the next four weeks, my plan is to continue trying to find some peace. Even if I’m not successful, the fact that I’m trying is progress enough for now.
Do you have any tips for how I can unwind? Please share: averagejoelle3@gmail.com.
The little things
We spent the first night of Rosh Hashanah at my dad’s house down the Jersey Shore. On my typical running route, I loop around near the inlet, where the ocean meets the bay. Right at the bend, I started swatting what I thought were spotted lantern flies, but upon closer inspection, I realized were hundreds of monarch butterflies fluttering around me. I called for my husband to bring the kids so we could enjoy the moment together.
My friend Luisa Navarro, founder and CEO of Mexico in my Pocket, shared with me that each year, monarch butterflies embark on a great migration from the Northeast to her grandmother’s home state of Michoacán, Mexico. This is why she incorporates monarchs all throughout her beautiful business. She sent me this short video, which explains the symbolism behind the butterflies’ arrival for Diá de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead. It’s truly amazing.
Also
If you have any interest in the ethos behind internet decentralization (beyond apes and tokens and Kim Kardashian ads), read this piece in The Atlantic to see where the movement stands now.
Your wins
Andrea got a new job and is leaving - in her words - a “toxic ass workplace” and gets to spend most of her two weeks’ notice on a pre-planned vacation! Woo!