Rest is an Action
Everything American culture tells us about rest is wrong
When I got home from Portland’s “Hands Off” protests on Saturday, I was tired, bone tired. You know the kind of tired I’m talking about —that heavy fog that sucks away thought and feeling, so that conversations fall flat, your food tastes bland and hugs need to be really tight to break through. So I sank directly into a second act of resistance: I took a nap in the sun.
Life in America in 2025 is exhausting. The stock market is crashing, Democracy being fed to the paper shredder, misogyny & racism thriving, social ties are frayed and many of us are facing surging cost of living coupled with under employment, with dimming hopes for an economic turnaround. The weight of our neighbors’ & friends’ pain piles on our own. Even if you’r information feeds aren’t full of doom, the mere constant bombardment with information that is modern life is enough to bonk us: today, the average human processes as much information in one day as they would have in their entire lifetime 500 years ago. It’s no wonder we’re tired.
We live in a culture that makes inhuman demands of our time and energy. We’re asked for constant productivity, constant attention to the notifications of friends, family and the constant updates of the world abroad, and to upkeep & share a life worth bragging about on top of that. And no matter how hard we try to fulfill the conflicting messaging around where and how our time should be parcaled, we’re fed a constant narrative of not-enoughness.
As a result, we live in a culture that is chronically exhausted. This exhaustion is its own form of oppression, keeping us trapped in systems that profit off our un-wellness. If we are to change these systems, and reclaim our lives, we need to rest. As Tricia Hersey of the Nap Ministry says: “Rest is Resistance.”
But what is rest?
It’s club med, right? It’s a massage, a nap, or a meditation app. Better yet, the modern way to rest, our little dopamine fiending brains, and many a TikTok influencer would tell us, is to lay in bed all day and zonk out with a screen. Go on and rot. You deserve it.
In America’s individualist, capitalist culture, rest is portrayed as a solitary, passive, self-centered activity. Add spending money, and rest elevates to “self care”. Bed rotting would seem to be just the ticket, bonus if it involves some online shopping, DoorDashing, and of course broadcasting your in-activities via social media.
But how rested do you really feel after a day of laying around eating chicken tenders, ordering ironic socks, and doomscrolling?
My brain starts to tingle, my attention dissolves, and when I finally pry myself away from the couch my body is stiff, my guts sluggish and everything outside of flicking that scroll seems impossibly harder. And it should come as no surprise (despite my dopamine-fiending brain’s pervasive denial): Bed rotting is not an effective way to rest. This isn’t to disparge anyone for doing it, it’s just to call a spade a spade. When we call bedrotting “self-care” we’re denying that it is more likely just the opposite, if not a symptom of poor mental health that deserves attention.
bed rotting (urban dictionary): The gen z term for staying in bed for days on end, binging on Netflix, Tik Tok and Hinge
What bed rotting is is good for capitalism, feeding into the attention & consumer economies and keeping people from organizing, building community, and, you guessed it, achieving real rest, which they desperately need. In an economy that profits off of people’s sickness, pain and unquenchable desires, it’s not surprising that everything American mainstream culture, so defined by the advertising that constantly bombards our lives, wants us to believe about rest is wrong.
The truth is, rest is not a passive, solitary, or consumptive act. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
Rest can be social
Why do we think we need to be alone to rest? Individualism is a chockstone of capitalism, pushing us towards an ideal of self-sufficiency that creates ongoing opportunities for consumption. Humans are a social species, we wilt when lacking strong relationships. This is why solitary confinement is one of the cruelest forms of torture, resulting in sometimes permanent neurological damage. Studies have shown the people with strong relationships live longer, healthier, happier lives. Of course, this does not mean that all socializing is restful. The superficial, extractive, attention destroying nature of so called “social media” can be the opposite of rest. If a social dynamic is to be restful, it needs to be regenerative, not extractive. It needs to soothe your nervous system, not activate it. If you’re on an emotional roller coaster, or trying to accomplish or prove something: that’s not rest. If you’re calmly drinking tea with a friend in the sunshine with your phones on silent: that’s rest.
A bonus radical feature of making rest social, is that it takes us out of this culture of individualistic, self-centered care, and into one where caring for ourselves is linked with caring for others. One need not come at the expense of the other. When we see our own well-being as intrinsically tied to that of those around us, we create healthier communities and everyone benefits. So, make rest social. Turn your phone off, and lay on a blanket in the park with friends. Join a meditation group. Walk the streets with your partner, admiring the neighbor’s flowers. Whatever it is that you’re doing to recharge, consider bringing someone along. Your community will be better for it.
Rest can be free
Spending money can be source of stress for most people, regardless of economic status. While the idea that a week in a beachside resort being hand-fed cut fruits, pampered and spoiled might sound like the most restful thing on earth, it might not feel like that after you’ve paid the bill (if someone else is paying your bill, rock on.) While consumption can feel revitalizing in the moment (hello, retail “therapy”, another misnomer of capitalism), it comes with its cost. Rest is not only for the rich, and taking a break from consumption might be just the rest you need.
Most rest is active
Any athlete knows that an active reset day - walking, yoga, gentle swimming - is better than a day on the couch for muscle recovery (science supports this). The same is true of of other types of rest. While sometimes, yes, simply taking a nap or staring into space is absolutely what the doctor ordered, most rest is active. That’s because physical rest is just one type of rest, and it’s not the only kind that we need.
In Sacred Rest, Saundra Dalton-Smith, M.D., outlines seven types of rest, six of which are not napping. In addition to physical rest, our bodies need mental rest, spiritual rest, creative rest, social rest, emotional rest and sensory rest. While as individuals we may identify more or less with each of these needs, I find them a good platform to start from when trying to figure out how to do this rest thing.
Meditation is a great way to achieve mental rest. You know you need it when you’re brain is spinning, racing, or unfocused. Journaling, playing string games with you cat, or staring out the window are also good ways to rest your brain.
Emotional rest means finding a space to be open, expressive, and authentic. It’s venting to a friend, or gushing to them. More simply, it’s being able to interact honestly and without kid gloves or sugar coating. Emotional rest is spending time in situations where you can be your authentic self. How do you create time for emotional rest? Maybe it’s tea with your bestie, or a phone call to your sibling. Solitary ways to achieve emotional rest might be journaling or tonglen meditation.
Social rest means recharging your social battery in one of two directions: it can me taking some alone time, or it can mean going out on the town. Whether you identify as an introvert or extrovert, we all need some of each, and too much of either can be exhausting.
The idea of spiritual rest may or may not resonate with you. In it’s most basic terms, it means finding time to exist beyond your proverbial skin sack, and remember that you’re part of something much bigger. For some, that might be God, church, prayer. For others, meditation or community. For me, saying a prayer of gratitude over meals is a form of spiritual rest: I am present with the ongoing cycle of energy and elements that is life. I am the plant, the plant is me. We are all made of sunshine, water and earth. We are inextricable from this planet. Stargazing is another favorite and necessary form of spiritual rest, taking me out even another step further into the vastness of creation that I am.
Creative rest is not just for those who work in creative field. Humans are by nature creators, and that includes you. Whether you’re inventing games with your kiddos, making dinner, rearranging furniture, painting a masterpiece or scripting an ad campaign, you’re creating. When we take creative rest, we stop producing and just receive. To find it, seek out environments where you can take in inspiration, without pressure to do anything with it. Galleries and museums are obvious choices, but your inspiration can be anywhere: a butterfly pavilion, the used building supplies center . . . I used to love window shopping Specialized Cars when I lived in Los Angeles. My partner has a tree he visits at the Portland Arboretum. Maybe slowly eating an orange is your creative rest, or simply watching a bag blow in the wind.
Physical rest means sleeping, napping, and just kicking back and relaxing. Even physical rest can (and should) at times be active: stretching, gentle yoga or qui gong, or getting a massage are all ways to rest physically. Trade massages with a partner or friend to reduce financial stress and spread the rest. Daydream in the sun with your kitty. Your nap is an act of resistance.
TENETS OF THE NAP MINISTRY (By Tricia Hersey)
Rest is a form of resistance
Our bodies are sites of liberation
naps provide a portal to imagine, invent & heal
Our DreamSpace has been stolen and we want it back. We will reclaim it via rest.
Sensory rest is perhaps the most overlooked form of rest, and the one I believe most of us need most crucially. Our modern environements are designed for sensory overload: we are constantaly being bombarded with stimulaiton. Whether that’s the informaiton barage of technology, the sound of your neightbors leaf blower, or the powerful smells of industry or perfume, you’re body is processing levels of stimulation that are far beyond what it was designed for. If you’re highly sensitive or otherwise neurodivergent, regular sensory rest is even more crucial. Sensory rest means taking a break from external input. This can mean all at once (a float tank, for instance) or just resting one sense (earplugs).
The most critical type of sensory rest for most of us is taking a break from our screens. For me, that’s ideally an hour before bed screen free, no technology in the bedroom, and only texting socially at most three times a day (morning, lunch, evening) though often it’s far less. I try to do as much communication as possible via phone calls, and use voice memos instead of text messages. I don’t have social media apps on my phone because my brain just cannot handle the temptation to scroll your memes (I do download them when necessary for work projects). When possible, I leave my phone behind and use my watch instead.
For more about reducing your screentime as an anticapitalist act of liberation and community restoration, check out How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell.
Achieving sensory rest has for me been the biggest challenge. In 2016 I developed a post-viral disorder which meant that the loud music and flashing lights that were the joy of my youth become suddenly debilitating, causing migraines, panic attacks, and even black outs. I could also no longer tolerate things like tight bra-bands, ponytails, parades, protests, the smell of Home Depot’s pesticide aisle. What I learned through treatment (both with a therapist & many doctors) is that I was probably overriding my sensitive system for a long time, getting off on the rush of overload without taking care to refill my tank. The virus simply sent me over an edge. I had to do a sesory overhaul of my life and lifestyle, including finding ways to reduce my background sensory input, so that I could increase my overall reserves. Earplugs, soft clothing, loose hairstyles and such work on a daily basis. Somatic work, meditation and desensitization are all parts of my regular approach to sensory rest and restoration. Most important, of course, is reducing that screen time.
Find your rest.
Walking in the forest with a good friend is one of my favorite forms of rest, checking all my restorative boxes. Creatively, I’m always inspired by the light and forms of nature. Socially, I’m rejuvenated in connection with someone I trust. Mentally, it’s easy to be present with my friend in the quiet embrace of the forest, with the good neurotranmitters flowing. The soft sounds and light of the forest are an ideal place for sensory rest. Spiritually, well, nature is my church, reminding me that I’m a working part of something vast and beautiful. I once told my partner: “If I’m ever really spinning out, please ask me: ‘Have you been to the forest lately? Because 99 times out of 100, that’s what I need.’ “
Remembering to rest is not always easy, as by and large it’s not culturally encouraged or integrated. Red herrings like meme-scrolling can feel good in the moment, but then make our need for rest all the greater. Sometimes by the time I need rest, its too late for me to think clearly enough to get it. So, I put a sign on my wall that says : “Feeling tired or confused? Why don’t you . . .” Followed by a rotating list of restorative actions & how long to spend on each. Seems a bit prescriptive, but it helps when my executive functioning has gone offline.
My cat, Sibyl, is a great rest mentor and accountability partner. This week, she’s been mewling at me to come outside with her and sit with my face in the sun, to feel the warmth return while we watch the light filter through the magnolia blossoms. We do this for ten minutes or so, together, simply witnessing this ephemeral time as the blossoms drift towards the earth. In addition to herding me outside for nature breaks, also is known to nose-bump the phone out of my hand so that I’ll pet her instead, or saunter over and lay on my arms when I’ve been typing on the computer for too long. Sibyl is a true ally of the rest resistance.
It feels a little funny to be talking about rest, as if this is something that should just be hardwired in; when we’re tired, we sleep. But our world is so much more complicated than that, and exhaustion has become not only epidemic, but a tool wielded against us. As a society, we seem to have not only forgotten how to rest, but to actively reject it. Fatigue has become a sickness, to be treated with drugs and shame. But indeed, rest is a most natural & necessary thing. It’s delicious, it’s nourishing, it’s empowering, and it’s our right. If we can reclaim the value of rest and find ways to take the rest we need, then the systems that feed off our fatigue and will weaken. Perhaps in time we can truly rejuvenate ourselves, and with our reclaimed power build stronger lives, stronger communities, a stronger country, and a healthier world.
Now, how about a nap?