We’ve got rest all wrong.
We plan it and there’s an element of joy in counting down the days. Three months to go, two weeks to go, one day to go. A spa day, a long weekend, a week in the sun. It’s something to look forward to, as if it’s the answer to everything that’s been building and bubbling away since the last one.
And don’t get me wrong, I love a week in the sun. I’ve just come back from Barbados. But here’s something I’ve noticed.
We don’t plan rest. We plan escape. And there’s a clear difference.
Escape is what you need when you’ve been running so hard from something that the only way to stop is to get on a plane and put an ocean between you and it. Rest is something else entirely.
I didn’t understand rest for years. And so, I just kept going. Always doing something, going somewhere. Meetings, deadlines, school runs, football training, the next drop-off, the next task. Despite my Dad showing me, I just didn’t get it.
He used to sit in the garden and watch the world go by. It seemed like a waste of time to
me. Staring into space, not doing anything. And so, I kept moving. And as long as I did this, kept moving, kept busy, and kept focused on the next thing, it meant I didn’t have time to notice everything underneath. The emotions, the thoughts, the sensations.
Keeping busy really is the most socially acceptable way of avoiding yourself.
I now know that’s not rest. It’s hiding. And it’s uncomfortable. Because when you stop filling every moment with stuff – all of it ‘out there’ – rest asks you to turn inward and focus on you. It gives you space to listen. To your thoughts, your feelings, your body, and to what’s happening around you. The stuff you’ve been moving too fast to face.
That’s why the countdown to the holiday feels so good. You’ve got somewhere to be. Something to do. You’re still moving …just in a different direction.
Real rest asks something harder. It asks you to stop, be still, and actually be with what’s
there.
Most of my clients are brilliant at doing. Full diaries. Back to back meetings. Always on. Always available. Always the person everyone needs. And yet, ask them to sit quietly for ten minutes, and they don’t know what to do with themselves. Immediately they reach for their phone.
Not because anyone’s messaged. Just it’s somewhere to look, something to do, and somewhere to hide.
Stopping usually means feeling something and feeling something means facing something. And that’s exactly what the hiding is designed to prevent.
My Dad had it right all along. Watching the world go by isn’t wasting time. It’s making space. Space for what’s actually there. The thoughts, feelings, and the hidden clues. The parts of yourself you’ve been too busy to hear. Rest isn’t a reward at the end of exhaustion, or something
you earn. It’s a practice. Regular. Chosen. Necessary. Because you need it.
If you recognise yourself in this, don’t start with a life overhaul. Start with ten minutes.
I’ve created a short guided audio walk called Give Yourself Permission to Stop. Because sometimes the hardest thing isn’t making a change. It’s giving yourself permission to stand still long enough to hear what needs to change. Click here to access
And if you find there’s more underneath than you expected, a Hide and Seek Session can help you explore it. Click here to book