Rest as rebellion

+ what my "creative vacation" looks like

I’m writing this newsletter from my “creative vacation,” a planned hiatus from my current writing project. I’ll be “on vacation” for the first half of June.

(What I can share for those interested: The writing project is a story that is novel-shaped and explores an idea with which I am completely besotted.)

It’s possible that your idea of a vacation doesn’t involve getting up at 5 a.m. to write. But what I want from this time isn’t a deviation from my normal routine — it’s the chance to explore whatever writing is calling to me at the moment (this newsletter right now, for instance), to have plenty of time for luxurious summer reading, and to give my artist the chance for extra rest and play. Think of it as an extended artist date.

A more condensed way to put it is that I’m letting myself not be productive. Two weeks without actively planning chapters and outlines and word counts. Time to meander instead of taking (small) steps forward.

I’ve been planning this time for the last several months and hoped to reach a certain point in my manuscript by the time June came around. I did get to the milestone marker I wanted, but even if I hadn’t, I still would have taken these two weeks for rest because I know I’ll return to my writing and be that much more “productive” later after time to refill my creative well.

Earlier this year, I wrote about slowing down. Doing my best to keep my two-word New Year’s resolution has taught me that rest is an incredible resource. I know from experience that giving myself the rest I need lets me work with more focus later; paradoxically, giving myself more rest time with this manuscript has let it grow faster than I thought it would when I first started nurturing the idea in the beginning of the year. There were days I couldn’t work on my project for one reason or another, weeks where I needed to move slowly. I didn’t hustle. I didn’t push myself. I gave my story focused attention on many early mornings, but I also gave myself rest on the days when I needed it. I did my best to find that fine line between showing up for your art and giving it the space to ebb and flow, as it does, and I’ve never been happier in my writing.

That’s the idea I want to bring to you in this People Who Like Things installment — the revolutionary concept that rest is allowed. That rest should be part of the rhythms of your life, that it could actually get you closer to your goals faster because you’ll be a fresher, more focused, more relaxed version of yourself while pursuing them.

We’re conditioned to think that rest is something we earn only after pushing ourselves to the point of exhaustion and burnout. Toxic work culture tells us we have to hustle, we should learn to get by without basic human needs like sufficient sleep and nourishing food, and to pump ourselves full of whatever socially approved addictive substance strikes our fancy when we’re tired.

By my count, there are four socially approved ways to “rest.” (Spoiler alert: None of these approaches offer real, daily, healthy rest.)

1. Alcohol. Pouring a glass of wine or whiskey at the end of a long day is the ubiquitous “you deserve it” moment. You survived another day of human existence, congratulations! here’s your treat.

2. Screen time. Hours of screen time at night or over the weekend is the other easy thing to reach for. You’ve pushed yourself all day or all week and now nothing sounds good except zoning out on the couch and streaming TV shows while simultaneously scrolling your phone.

3. Irregular sleep. During the week, you deprive your human body of one of the essential things it needs to function properly, telling yourself that you’ll “catch up” on sleep this weekend.

4. Vacations. Once you’ve pushed yourself as hard as you possibly can, you’ll “deserve” to take the two-week vacation that’s supposed to refuel you for the entire rest of the year.

A couple of caveats before I talk about approaches to healthy rest. First, I need to pause and point out that I’m writing about this topic from a place of incredible privilege. I know there are people who literally can’t afford to rest because they’re working three jobs to support their families. But the idea I’m trying to share here is how even if we’re stupidly lucky enough to have the resources for it, we have no idea what real rest looks like.

Second, if you genuinely find that using alcohol, screentime and irregular sleep while looking forward to that once-a-year vacation for your rest works for you and you’re the best, most relaxed, most fulfilled, most complete version of yourself while doing so, then you probably don’t need this newsletter. But if you’re not satisfied with socially approved approaches to rest, please read on.

If you’ve been following this newsletter for a while, you already know what I’m going to say: Daily moments of rest will look a little different for everyone, and you’ll have to find what works for you. I wanted to share a few ideas that I hope will give you a place to start.

Quiet

Rest can be simply giving yourself time to think and process and daydream in whatever flavor of silence is around you. No screens and no one else’s words in front of your eyes or in your ears. Do you have quiet moments in your day, or are you stuck in the cycle of checking your phone as soon as you wake up, putting on music while you get ready for work, scrolling your Twitter timeline on the train or listening to a podcast in the car on your commute, looking at a computer screen all day, and then relaxing with the TV on when you get home?

If that cycle sounds familiar, know you’re not alone. I spent years in that modern stress cycle and it took years for me to slowly unwind from it. To realize that there are billion-dollar industries that want to make sure I never have a moment alone with my thoughts. To embrace the defiance of quiet, of saying that my own thoughts are more valuable to me than the infinite stream of content those industries want flooding our senses 24/7.

In another life, I worked in digital marketing, which essentially means I was paid to write tweets and Facebook and Instagram posts for other people. It’s funny to think of that time now because in the years since leaving that world, I’ve come to realize how much quiet I need in my life.

I used to be someone who checked Twitter multiple times an hour; now, my social media intake is usually looking at my much quieter and lovelier Instagram feed a few times a week and maybe sharing one post with people that I hope is thoughtful and encouraging. I used to have podcasts or music playing almost all the time; now, while I still love podcasts and music, I try to average at least half of my time driving in my car in silence. I drive almost an hour to get to my day job, and I find myself looking forward to that time of quiet where I can check in with myself, ask questions about what I’m feeling (or maybe what I want to create next), daydream about something I’m excited about, or just let my mind rest and/or wander as needed.

It took me years to build up to that quiet commute hour, so don’t think you have to start there. You also don’t need to add anything to your to-do list; this approach is about folding quiet into the mix of your normal day. Try building in 10 minutes here and there to be alone with your thoughts while you’re completing a household task, getting ready in the morning, walking the dog, etc., and see what happens.

Transitions

All of us live and work in multiple roles. You’re (likely) an employee, a neighbor, a friend, a family member. Maybe you have a romantic partner, and/or you’re a parent. Maybe you’re an artist as well, or you have a passion project that you pursue in your spare time. Each of these roles requires something different from us, and I think there’s rest in moving from one to another. Writing all the time, for instance, would mean I never get to rest from writing. At my day job, I spend a lot of time looking at numbers, and — believe it or not — numbers can be a refreshing break from the world of words. Cooking a nourishing meal at the end of the day, in a different role, provides another “break” where I don’t have to think about much except following the steps of a recipe (or winging it, which often happens).

I like to find quiet in the moments of transitioning between my various roles and the rituals and routines they require. On a typical Wednesday, for instance, I wake up and I’m a writer. I have an hour or so to focus only on writing and forget everything else. Then there’s some transition time, where I’m a homemaker putting a few things in order before I leave for work and transition into being an employee. When I’m home at the end of the day, I shift gears with some exercise that lets me shake off anything that happened at work and be myself at home, where I can focus on my partner and our life together.

I’ve found that I need quiet for those routine moments of moving from one role to the next. There’s something in the stillness that can elevate those shifts to almost being a ritual, part of the flow of my life. And yes, I still have moments of feeling overwhelmed by all the tasks I need to accomplish in a day, and no, I don’t perfectly, calmly transition from one role to the next all day, every day. But I’ve found it’s crucial for me to experience those key shifts in quiet instead of with music playing or while scrolling my phone.

Fun

In a sense, all of my newsletters are about fun. I’m having the best time with the whole “existing as a creative being in a fascinating world” thing, and I hope you are, too. But as much as I could write 100000 newsletters about things that are fun, it’s not an easy idea to define. What’s fun for me might not work for you, and vice versa.

For our purpose of talking about rest, I’m going to define “fun” as an enjoyable activity that requires your focused attention for a set time and (ideally) doesn’t get interrupted.

Here a few ideas (and please, reply to this newsletter if you’d like to share what works for you):

Going outside

Sorry to be a cliché, but spending time in nature is an easy (and free) way to find rest and quiet. I’m not the person to tell you to meditate because it’s not something that works for me, but I think a walk without headphones counts as a moving meditation and has the same positive effects.

Finding a hobby you pursue simply for the joy of it

I started figure skating lessons last year, which is probably one of the most ridiculous things anyone can take on in the name of “a fun hobby” unless going out into the dark and cold to be on the ice at 6 a.m. to do something incredibly difficult sounds fun to you. But getting to feel like a little kid again trying something new? Yeah, that’s fun.

Watching a movie or an episode of a TV show without checking your phone once

Yes, this is a recommendation for screen time, but I know that you know there’s a world of difference between scrolling social media while a TV show is auto-playing in the background versus watching the latest episode of Ted Lasso with someone you love.

Content is a big part of our lives, and that’s not going to change any time soon, so I think it’s key to know how screen time affects you and how much you can handle in one day. For me personally, watching one or two TV episodes in a day is great. But something happens when I hit that third episode — it’s like my brain maxes out, and the stories start to run together, and it’s not genuinely fun and refreshing anymore. Find your own sweet spot.

Zoning out in a way that’s still nourishing

It took me a LONG time to find my version of this. I wanted an activity that kept me occupied, didn’t involve looking at a screen, and yet still wiped my to-do-list-making, future-planning, monkey-mind brain for a little while. I tried messing around with watercolors or sketching, I tried adult coloring books, I tried a DIY model. I also tried being someone who’s really into vinyl. All of these things, to be honest, were way too much work.

I finally returned to something I’d enjoyed as a kid: jigsaw puzzles. Sometimes I need silence, and the colors and texture of the puzzle pieces are enough. I also love to put on an audiobook if I can find the perfect one to listen to. The puzzle keeps my hands busy in a gentle way while the audiobook occupies my brain, and the combination lets me zone out for a while in a way that feels refreshing, not draining.

Rewatching, rereading, or otherwise revisiting something you love

In a world of new content demanding our attention, rewatching is defiance. Sure, there are a million shows I could be watching (no, I have not yet watched Daisy Jones and the Six, yes, I will get to it!), but sometimes what I need is to rewatch the season 3 finale of Mythic Quest for the fourth time so the moment that always makes me laugh/sob can make me laugh/sob again.

The world of books, as fellow avid readers know, is equally frantic — I’ve overwhelmed myself many times trying to keep up with all the “big books” and the shiny new titles released every Tuesday. I don’t want to spend a lifetime trying to “keep up” and never coming back to the books I adored, so I’ve been trying to make space in my reading life for rereading. Sometimes you need to step back into a world that’s familiar and comforting.

This is, after all, a newsletter about the things we like, so I wanted to share one of my current obsessions: “Party,” the second single from Daughter’s newest album, Stereo Mind Game. The whole album is worth a slow-burn rainy-day listen, but this track in particular is everything.

Everyone who listens to “Party” is going to come away with something a little different from the intricate lyrics, but for me, it’s a song that makes me think of the seasons of my life — college and possibility, that precious early time when no dream is too big; the lost years of my 20s, heartbreak and depression and the dark places I’ve since left behind; contrasts between now and then, how much my life has been transformed in the last half-decade or so; and what could be ahead, if I’m brave enough to reach for it.

Please feel free to reply to this newsletter to share the things you like and any resources for joyful rest that you’ve found, and thanks, as always, for reading.