What is Rest, Really?

And does it feel so elusive to everyone else?

Well, I never expected to take seven weeks off writing this newsletter—but life got in the way. September and October always seem to stir up something for me. In September, I often get a prickly feeling, like life is about to get interesting whether I’m ready for it or not. And come October, I am in a full sprint from the start of the month until the moment Halloween ends. This is the time of year when the air feels electric, charged with moodiness and uncertainty and excitement. The naive part of me thinks this season signals a quiet winding down, while the wiser version of myself knows that there are many changes yet to unfold.

The last few autumns have brought a staggering amount of upheaval for my family, and perhaps this year I was instinctively bracing for it. Indeed minor catastrophes occurred, unsettling situations presented themselves. I had too many days that held stress and worry and bottomless grief. All to say, Spiritual Salad fell to the wayside.

But now, I’m back. And as I survey the last few weeks, I’m asking myself what is it that really gets me through the hard times. It’s certainly a combination of forces both within and outside of myself: Grit and optimism can only get you so far before you need the deep support, understanding and compassion that a loved one can offer.

I can’t help but acknowledge that rest doesn’t come easily to me. Subconsciously I equate rest with wasted time, though I try desperately to convince myself I don’t believe that. My beloved mother notoriously never sat still (at least not during daylight hours), and I see her clearly in myself as I race from one project to the next. She loved being busy—it made her feel productive and purposeful and, as she called it, “good tired.”

The fire in my belly comes from my mom, and I’m grateful for it. Most of the time it serves me well. I too like being “good tired” and feel proud of a long, well-spent day. Life has always felt fleeting, and I’ve never wanted to waste a minute. But as I get older, I’ve learned this aversion to rest isn’t serving me.

So. What is rest, really? I suspect it’s different for everyone, but I know what it’s not for me: It’s not laying around and turning my brain off. That makes me feel worse. But somewhere on the scale there’s a restful place between a frenzied mind and a numb one, and the key is to find that balance.

Now, I see rest like a prayer. It comes through mindfulness and contemplative reflection. It doesn’t ignore problems, but it sets down burdens. It gives permission—or rather, it begs—that you be kind to yourself.

I know now that rest is peace.

When our minds, bodies and spirits are experiencing peace, we are rested. We all deserve to feel this peace (especially when we’re “good tired”). It sustains us during the hard times.

Deep down, I know when I’m resisting rest. My body gives me signs, as does my mind. My spirit does not feel at peace. Ironically I default to busyness because being organized and efficient makes me feel prepared for any unforeseen calamities that may cross my path, but the emotional expense of evading rest will inevitably backfire. It is impossible to deal with a stressful situation alongside prolonged exhaustion.

In reflection of these last several weeks, I realize I did allow myself to rest more than I may have in the past. It helped me navigate the ups and downs, and now I’m emerging on the other side ready to fully embrace all the facets of life that bring me such joy and meaning.

Moving forward, you can expect a new Spiritual Salad newsletter twice a month. I can’t wait to keep exploring spirituality with you, and I sincerely thank you for reading. May we all find a moment of rest in every day.

in love & faith,
anné jude