Issue #008 — On rest as resistance
Not the bath-bomb kind. The kind that does not photograph well. A small political act in an economy built on never stopping.
Dear reader,
October, and I am thinking about rest.
Not the rest that is performance — bath bombs and ten-step routines and the soft branding of self-care. The other kind. The kind that does not photograph well. Lying on the floor at four in the afternoon. Cancelling the thing without a good reason. Saying I am tired, in those words, to a person who will not try to fix it.
I have come to believe that rest, properly understood, is a small political act. Not in the loud sense. In the sense that almost every system around us — economic, social, algorithmic — is built on the assumption that we will keep going. That we will produce, optimise, post, ship, hustle. The pressure is so ambient we mistake it for our own ambition. We work harder and call it discipline. We sleep less and call it commitment.
To stop, when stopping is not allowed, is to remember that you are a person and not a function. That is not a luxury. That is the precondition for being any good at the work you came here to do.
I am not romantic about it. Rest is not a vibe. It is sometimes uncomfortable. It is often boring. It frequently surfaces the things you were busy enough to avoid. The first hour of real rest, after a long stretch without it, is often the worst hour, because the body has finally been given permission to feel what it has been carrying.
This week, if you can, find one hour that is not for anyone. Not for the work. Not for the household. Not for the people who love you. One hour that is just yours, and if it surfaces something hard, let it.
You are allowed.
Yours,
Enova