The Art of Rest
Regrouping and recharging as a way of nurturing our creative resilience
Happy full moon, folks, and happy Friday, for those who observe. There’s been a lot going on. Perhaps that’s an understatement. I know the election last week threw many of us for a loop (understatement) and it’s hard to predict what will happen next (understatement). I’m not going to go deep into my processing of it, but two wonderful Substacks I read did a lovely job (shout out to Nervous Wreckage and Craft Talk), if you’d like some catharsis and inspiration.
No, today I’m going to talk about rest. And how perhaps creative rest is something we all need, so that we can germinate new art, new writing, new soulful engagement with the world. And how if you’re like me, somewhat anxious and ambitious, the answer is almost always “do something.” Or better yet, “do something else”, something more, something better.
But now, I’m realizing, it’s also important to listen to your body when it’s saying “do less.” Or, “just rest today.” Or, “you look like you need nourishment.”
How do you give yourself permission to rest?
Not to doomscroll on your phone, or surf Instagram, or make to do lists, but instead… just… quiet the mind and the body and renew?
My fall book tour is over. It was so fun! And also very tiring.
The book buzz has slowed. Which is fine! There was a lovely review in the Taipei Times, which my publisher shared on social media with a cool marketing graphic. I’ll take it!
I find myself itching to write again, to get back to work. But my wells are sapped, and I need to recharge, refill the spring of enthusiasm and inspiration. Reading helps. Rest helps.
It’s nice to say, every now and then, today you can rest. Tonight, you can rest. Why not go to bed early, put the phone down, and get some sweet sleep?
Thinking about resting at this time of year also makes me think about hibernation, getting ready for winter, and retreating into our cozy abodes as the days get colder and darker.
Historically, the November full moon was called the Beaver Moon, since beavers were out reinforcing their homes for the winter, and Native Americans would take advantage of this activity to hunt beavers for their skins, in order to stay warm and survive winter. The November full moon was also known to pagans as the Mourning Moon, as it was the last moon before winter solstice, and apparently, a time to grieve, embrace loss, and let go of what no longer serves you.
Supposedly, there is a pagan ritual where, during this full moon, you write down the things you want to rid yourself of, in order to receive cosmic help in removing unwanted burdens.
Shall we try it?
This weekend, this full moon, this evening, what if we each take 5 minutes to breathe deeply and rest, with no other activities or distractions. And then, what if we take 5 min and jot down (with a pen or on a phone or computer or even just mentally naming) some old, outdated things you want to let go of.
For me, this thought experiment includes letting go of a pair of shoes I was hanging onto to get a little more use out of that hurt my feet when I wear them. For me, this also might include letting go of an outdated assumption that I’m holding onto that my skin should be flawless or I’m doing something wrong. (I’m old! My skin is reflecting that a bit! Yet still I can care for my skin, but with more realistic expectations). For me, this also might include letting go of delusions of fame and grandeur. I have published a book yes, but no, the skies haven’t opened up and the heavens haven’t trumpeted. But still, I can be proud. And modest. And soulful.
And with that, maybe the rest and the letting go can open up some space for new creations.
Winter is actually one of my favorite times to write, because it’s cold, it’s dark, it’s cozy. I don’t need to feel guilty that I’m not spending more time outside. I can make myself a hot cup of tea (or coffee or hot chocolate) and put my feet up on the radiator and snuggle under a blanket and dream deep dreams. I’m trying to feel hopeful about getting more uninterrupted time to write soon.
I’m trying to feel hopeful about a lot of things. Sending you hope too, and lots of love, and some light in the darkness.
For letting go, I have just deleted the Instagram app on my phone to try and take a proper break from it.
This hit all the right notes for me. Just what I needed at the moment! I had been feeling down about the election, the fire in my beloved neighborhood forest, and (for extra cheer!) negative self-talk about the mediocre aftermath of my own book publication. Your thoughts helped me reframe and I feel so much better! Sometimes writers feel like their words are going into a void, but there is always someone out there to whom them are essential. Thank you, Kim!