On Rest, pt. 2

A few years ago, I attended a yoga class led by a peppy instructor who said something that has stuck with me since. “Breathe,” she told us. “It’s just yoga. You bring whatever energy you have to the mat.”

For the rest of class, I felt liberated. I stopped for water midway. I half-assed the poses that were simply too hard for me. I took a child’s pose whenever I needed to. I felt so freed by letting the stakes lower, accepting that I wasn’t messing anything up. Whatever I had to give was what I had to give.

These days, I’m still thinking about rest and what it means for me. I’ve been experimenting with how it feels to be led by my energy levels, rather than attempting to move heaven and earth to try to change them (or more accurately, force them). The disability community on Twitter made me aware of the idea of “spoons,” that there is only a limited number of mental or physical energy that one’s body can devote to tasks throughout the day. Once the day’s spoons are used up, things will simply have to wait for the next day or the replenishment of energy.

I don’t think I have ever lived life that way (and am incredibly privileged to not have had to). I am somewhat alarmingly habituated to letting my mind lead the way over my body. At times it takes conscious effort for me to remember that I have a body. In a very real sense, I have become used to not letting it matter very much what my body feels or where my energy levels are; I govern myself based on what I am required to do. I learned in college how to white-knuckle my way through most tasks, no matter how drudging. I have found hacks for raising my energy levels just enough to get me motivated again (okay, so there’s this podcast host I will not name whose voice I find slightly grating; I often play an episode of the show to annoy myself enough into getting up and cleaning the house. It’s surprisingly effective! 0/10 stars, would not recommend.)

In this year of Ease, I am deeply reconsidering my productivity methods, not least to spare my eardrums. Acknowledging my deep need for more rest means doing some things differently. Some of my favorite rejuvenating, restorative activities are staying on my self-care list, but I am allowing myself to do them longer. Instead of sneaking in a 20min. workout on the elliptical, I am trying out devoting a whole hour to slow yoga in the morning. Instead of cherry-picking my favorite songs, I’m listening to the whole music album.

Most of the tools in my self-care toolbox are still good and usable for deepening my rest practices. Engaging with The Nap Ministry’s work has been helpful in fresh thought exercises on rest. On her blog, Tricia Hersey asks the question “How will you be useless to capitalism today?” I love it. Real talk, I make a very bad machine. I cannot replicate previous days endlessly, I can’t sustain consistent energy levels forever, nor would a life where I could do those things fulfill me. What I can do is be an imperfect human being. And that means more time spent resting.

I also have been sitting with the question this month: “How can I give myself more than the bare minimum?” I have spent so long orienting myself towards survival, especially during the pandemic. How might I begin to re-orient towards thriving? In short: after survival, what comes next?

PS: As always, if you like what you read, consider supporting the work on Buy Me a Coffee. Stay tuned for updated reading lists and writing prompts coming later this month!