Learning to Rest: Reclaiming Stillness Without Guilt
“I feel so guilty when I’m not doing anything.”
“Rest is hard for me.”
“I feel lazy.”
“I sometimes think, if I sit down, I won’t ever get up.”
Can you relate?
Consider your most rested self:
Who are you?
How are you?
How do you feel about those around you?
How do you feel about yourself?
How does your capacity shift?
As a new mom, my relationship with rest has changed dramatically. I appreciate it in new ways. I love my family so much more sincerely and easily when I’m well-rested. I’m more patient, happy, efficient, thoughtful, and clear. And, honestly, I feel so much better.
When I ask clients about their relationship with rest, the conversation usually starts with sleep. And while sleep is a huge part of rest, it’s only one piece of the puzzle.
Here’s the truth: rest—in all its forms—is crucial to our well-being.
According to Dr. Saundra Dalton-Smith, there are at least seven essential types of rest:
Physical
Mental
Social
Emotional
Sensory
Creative
Spiritual
You can read more about each type here.
What would change if you prioritized rest—kindly, abundantly, intentionally, and with compassion—as an essential part of your self-care?
I’m still learning to be in relationship with rest, and I’ve been working on it for quite a few years. It hasn’t always come gently or easily to me. But things are better now. Still hard at times—but so much better.
That said, it wouldn’t be fair to place the burden entirely on the individual. Our cultural, economic, and social structures make rest more accessible to some than others. Policies matter. Access matters. Too often, the "right to rest" is reserved for those with the most privilege.
This tells me something important: there is power in being well-rested.
Maybe that’s why it can feel like such an act of resistance.
If this resonates and you’re wondering where to start, I often recommend the following:
Evaluate the pace and structure of your life.
Where could you build in more time for rest?
Perhaps this means taking a full or half day off work every couple of weeks (or hiring help, if you’re a full-time parent). It doesn’t have to be a big commitment to be meaningful. Start as small as is reasonable and realistic to you.
Explore what sounds and feels restful to you.
Beyond sleep, what restores you? This might require some experimentation. Have fun with it! Here is another link to the article above for some inspiration.
Create a rest mantra
Try something like:
“I have unconditional permission to rest.”
“It will all get done—but not right now.”
“Rest supports my well-being, and my ability to love and care well.”
Schedule rest intentionally.
Daily, weekly, monthly—whatever fits. I’d recommend erring on the side of more often, if this is available to you! I often find, as with so many other related things, that I need far more rest than I wish I did.
I wish with my whole heart that rest weren’t so loaded. If rest feels threatening or guilt-inducing, you’re not alone—and you have my full compassion. Often, those most afraid they’ll never get back up if they stop moving are the ones who need rest the most.
And if that’s you, know this: it may feel hard at first—but over time, you may begin to move through the world with a steadier, more rested baseline.
Here’s to building a kinder, more compassionate, more rested world.