Embracing radical rest

last week, Brené Brown published a blog post called Creating Space. In it, she shared that she was about to take a 14 week sabbatical, and that she was encouraging everyone in her organisation to take an extra 4 weeks of annual leave this summer. She also eloquently shared why she was making this decision, acknowledging that  in order to make brave decisions and achieve audacious goals, we need breath and space. The post ended with a quote from Michaela Coel: “Do not be afraid to disappear, from it, from us, for a while and see what comes to you in the silence.” 

Now you probably know that I am a huge fan of Brené Brown and the brilliant work that she does, but I’ll admit that my first response as I sat at my desk reading that post was a sarcastic “alright for some, hey”. I felt defensive and triggered, envious and judgemental. I closed the tab, got back to my to-do list, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her words. After a little while, that initial sting of envy was replaced with something new: a sense of curiosity. Why was I reacting in this way? What had this post touched in me? By the time 5.30pm rolled around and I was locking up my office, a new question had crystalised in my mind: how can I get myself some of that breath and space? How can I too swim deep into that silence?

One of the most powerful things I learned during my training in psychology is that our first responses are usually our conditioned responses. They’re the responses we’ve been taught to have based on the belief systems we’ve been handed by society or our communities or our families. For that reason, our immediate responses can often feel incongruent. I used to feel ashamed that my automatic responses would sometimes be judgy or defensive, perhaps even cruel, but learning this fact helped me to be more compassionate with myself.

Nowadays, I pay a lot more attention to the thoughts that come after. I try to see that initial response as a confused child acting out on the playground - I know that they’re not intentionally being unkind, but I try not to give their words too much energy. Instead, I get quiet and listen for what shows up once the tantrum is out of the way. That’s usually where I find the answers or thoughts or beliefs that feel more like me, that’s usually the place where the learning happens, where the new ideas come, where the epiphany arrives.

The epiphany upon reading that post from Brené was that I am craving radical rest. Not a long weekend, not a few days of holiday, but deep, nourishing, restorative rest. And I’m gonna guess that I’m not the only one. As I sit typing this from bed on Thursday morning, trying to recoup some energy after a busy work week so far, I feel bone tired. And I’ve been listing out the reasons I might be feeling this way - perhaps it’s residual jet lag, perhaps it’s the summer cold I’m sniffling my way through, perhaps it’s the fact that life is busier than it has been for a long time. 

But I have a sneaking suspicion that even if I was doing nothing but pottering around the house and sleeping for 10 hours a night, this tiredness would still exist. I think this exhaustion has less to do with what’s going on in my life right now, and more to do with everything we’ve been dealing with the last few years. It’s a response to the fear and uncertainty, the constant readjustments, the relentless managing of hope and expectations. My body and brain have done such a brilliant job of holding me up and helping me to survive these last few years - they’ve let me wear the battery down in order to keep my business going and find the positives and stay well, and I think this tiredness is their way of telling me that they need some time to recharge.

And so, inspired by Brené Brown (as I so often am), I’m declaring this my summer of radical rest. While I can’t take 14 weeks away from work (and I imagine very few of you can either), what I can do is make rest my number 1 priority in the coming months. I think it’s important to note that rest involves so much more than sleeping or resting in a physical capacity (as vital as that is) - researchers believe that there are 7 types of rest that we need. And this summer, I want to lean hard into them all. I want to take time to appreciate great art, to spend time in nature, to have deep, meaningful conversations. I want to spend more time with the people who I love most, to visit new places, to work on the things that feel good in my soul. I want to take regular breaks, to leave my laptop untouched for as many days as my commitments will allow. I want to make up for all of the living that we lost out on in the last few years, and I want to let that living fill me up. Plus, let’s face it - I’ll probably also take a lot of naps.

I’d like to encourage you to join me. We’re tired. We’re worn down. Instead of trying to fight it, let’s surrender to it. Let’s embrace the ease, let’s give ourselves the opportunity to heal from everything the last few years have asked from us. And let’s have some fun doing it. 

I’m naming 2022 the summer of radical rest. Who’s with me?

Previous
Previous

Why do we resist joy?

Next
Next

On giving yourself what you want more of