“Rest is the New Busy: The Privilege of Doing Nothing, The Allure of Shabbatsana” From 2022
Rest and I have taken our relationship to the next level. My friends want to be happy for me, but my wild-eyed excitement is perhaps a bit unsettling. I found shabbatsana (it’s not quite what you think) and changed my life. Let me explain: As a kid, I once fell asleep standing up and was known for happily putting myself down for naps. As an adult, I’m an A+ sleeper but a C+ rester. I meditate, I love being in nature, but I skew towards “do” rather than downtime. Perhaps you can relate.
Working from home complicates this dynamic by blurring the boundaries between professional and personal worlds. Catching a glimpse of my computer while making dinner, I’m pulled into the orbit of work and something probably burns. Seeing dishes or a home project piled up when I’m working, I’m tugged back toward domesticity. My partner works from home too. Often, we’d work right through weekends, taking intermittent breaks but not stopping entirely. Part of leveling up my relationship with rest was committing to take clearly defined time off on the weekend. I realize this is not a novel concept. We committed to a change.
From Friday night through Sunday morning we committed to not working, either professionally on or home-related tasks. We picked a shady spot in the yard, under an old gazebo covered in wisteria vines, and parked there all day on Saturdays. We could do anything that felt peaceful—read, do crosswords, listen to the birds, walk around aimlessly, talk about ideas. But we could not respond to work email…or vacuum.
What is Shabbatsana?
Although not overtly religious, this time has become a spiritual ritual. Shabbatsana is our homage to the sacred pause embodied in Shabbat from Judaism, and śavāsana, the resting or corpse pose, from yoga. I am completely in love with shabbatsana and start looking forward to it as soon as I wake up on Monday.
At first, these rest days were challenging. I caught myself creeping back into doing and struggled to sink into extended being. But once I found the groove, I was hooked. I got “yard high,” my shorthand for feeling ecstasy in the nature of the backyard (without ingesting mind-altering substances).
Tuned into the visual and aural orchestra playing around me in nature, I come alive. I get excited about the smallest (and sometimes, weirdest) things, like leopard slugs mating on our doorstep—a remarkably elegant engagement involving a bright blue organ. Spending time in nature improves our mental and physical health in striking ways: decreases in heart disease, obesity, and anxiety and increases in well-being, birth outcomes, and cognitive development. No wonder shabbatsana feels so good.
But then, after doing shabbatsana for a while, I didn’t want to do anything else. This was unnerving. Had my usual reserve of energy and motivation dried up? I teach about burnout prevention, have good tools and love my work, but for the first time could envision myself stopping. My eyes were fixed on that vine-covered old gazebo in the yard, our accidental temple.
I let myself take a slower pace for a while, even outside of shabbatsana days, and began to feel more like myself. In retrospect, the fallow period lasted only a short time. I know that being still in nature is my best burnout prevention tools but my understanding grew deeper. My relationship with my hyperlocal environment evolved, and I evolved in turn.
Shabbatsana changed me.
Our collective approach to downtime has changed too. But with this positive new focus on rest, we’ve dragged along some of our same old tendencies. Something is a little off.
Rest is the new busy!
Not long ago, busyness had cachet. Our densely packed schedules and hectic paces reflected desirability in work and social spheres. Chronic sleep deprivation became a source of pride in this ethos of overdoing. We worked hard and played hard; we’d sleep when we were dead. Busy as a status symbol persisted for generations in the U.S.
Rest now has a shiny new appeal. Perhaps we’re joining Europeans in espousing a much older version of prestige, where the freedom to do nothing beyond caring for oneself is the ultimate status symbol. We moved though The Great Resignation into “quiet quitting.” Wellness practitioners and consumers tout their downtime. Ironically, authors are writing prolifically about “doing nothing.” Instead of bragging about how much we work, we’re “health signaling,” flaunting our self-care routines, including time off, all over social media.
The difference between acknowledging the value of rest (or any other experience) and speaking of its possession like a personal virtue is a fine line. Everything in nature (excluding perhaps human beings) has an instinctual understanding of the cycles of work and rest. No back pats needed. Let’s not brag about self-care as a “badge of honor.” Sure, let’s talk about how important and enjoyable rest is. But at the same time, let’s discuss how hard it is for some of us to get it. Where there is no money to purchase the triumvirate of time, place, and product. Or where prejudice limits access. We know the health benefits of relaxing in nature, but there is great disparity in access to green spaces. People of color are three times more likely to live in “nature deprived” areas.
The consequences of privilege infuse everything, including how we restore ourselves. Shabbatsana is sacred time for me, idyllic with loving partner and dog, time to read in natural space. Money can’t provide the invaluable gift of a soul mate, but it sure helps when caring for an injured pet and having the option of taking time off in your private backyard. Many of us do not have the option to take a day off from work. I wouldn’t have when I had a child living at home. One of the reasons we chose to name our sacred time shabbatsana is because although it alludes to and draws from existing traditions the details of how we practice are up to us. If we decide that our shabbatsana time is going to be from 1-2 on Monday afternoons, so be it. If it is a week once a year, so be it. Whatever your life looks like, whatever moments you can take to rest, whatever your “backyard” is like—urban, rural, private, public, etc.—I hope you’re able to create your own version of shabbatsana. Let me know how it goes.
Enatured® is a perfect practice for Shabbatsana days.
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