“We must believe we are worthy of rest. We don’t have to earn it. It is our birthright. It is one of our most ancient and primal needs” Tricia Hersey, Author of Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto.
It was only during the pandemic of 2020 that I really learnt the power of rest without guilt, and how essential it was for my wellbeing. I was 46 at the time. I had already been diagnosed with hypertension two years before, on several medications to manage it, but yet I didn't know how to rest without feeling very uncomfortable. Rest was something I encouraged other people to do. Emphatically. I knew it was good for people, I had helped many clients manage long term conditions like chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia, adhd- I could see burnout hurtling towards others at a pace. I knew the benefits intellectually. When I talk about rest here, I am referring to all the types of rest as defined by Saundra Dalton-Smith, physical, mental, emotional, sensory, creative, social, and spiritual.
But in practice, for me? No. I had no embodied sense of what rest without guilt was. I was deeply entrenched in my ways. Resting was deeply uncomfortable, my nervous system couldn’t tolerate it. It was physically uncomfortable, restlessness was my thing. This wasn’t just adhd, which I had diagnosed in 2021, this was the complete lack of permission to rest, an internalised message throughout my life that resting was being lazy, selfish, and that my worth would be measured by how productive and giving I was. As Saundra Dalton-Smith, says in her book Sacred Rest ‘It takes courage to rest in the midst of an outcome-driven society’ Conditioning was a huge part, but for me.
At the age of two, my mother was diagnosed with relapsing- remitting Multiple Sclerosis. From an early age I was well versed in how to care for her. She needed rest, and I was to help enable this. I cooked, cleaned and took on chores well beyond those of an average child. This was in an era that the term ‘young carer’ did not exist, I think I thought that everyone was doing it. Except they weren’t. Enabling others rest, at the price of completely ignoring my own needs was being hardwired into my neural circuits. This was together with a deeply avoidant/dismissive father who would rather work (seeking his own validation) than be at home. He pushed me hard to achieve at school, to be ‘doing’ all the time, turning soil over at the allotment, doing the food shop with him, cooking, polishing shoes.
Adding to this, the catholic faith I was brought up in, with the burden of generational trauma of untimely deaths, immigration to England from Ireland due to prejudice. You had to earn your place in heaven, and being ‘idle’ was not going to get you there. My great grandmother and grandfather left Northern Ireland with their young family, because there was no work for catholics, only to face the same response in England. My great grandmother wanted to work, she had to work. It must have been such an incredibly unsafe world internally and externally. Working was the only way to prove your worthiness as a valid member of society.
Growing up within this context, when it came to rest without guilt, not ‘doing’ my inner critical voice would raise many objections. I was being ‘lazy’, I would jump when someone came into a room if I wasn’t looking productive. I would apologise profusely for somehow not second guessing someone else’s needs for a drink, or asking if they needed anything. I was hypervigilant. More on that another time.
Going on to work at the hospital as an auxiliary at 16, whilst studying my A Levels whilst also working another job was the next stage of expressing my need to be useful and avoid rest. I got to care for more people, be even busier. My parents had had a very messy separation a few years before and I needed that validation from somewhere. I was subconsciously avoiding the pain, I knew how to be busy. But even then by the age of 18 I had developed shingles, twice and had IBS, my body was crying out for some acknowledgement and rest.
I went to therapy at 21, thus began the very slow process of healing of my traumas. I enrolled in mindfulness courses and buddhism courses in self compassion alongside. But in terms of how to learn to rest psychologically and somatically, in a way that I could recognise the physical pull not to rest, acknowledging the critical voice that said no- that really only happened in 2020. The world stopping and the culmination of years of self work, was the catalyst that gave me the permission I needed so badly. If everything else was stopping, then I could too.
At this time, I also became part of an unschooling circle which was instrumental in helping me understand my needs as a parent (this was news to me- a mother had needs for herself?) along with my families idiosyncrasies. I began compassionately observing how my children rested when they needed to, playing when they wanted, eating when they needed to. There was no permission seeking, it was the healing my inner child needed to witness. I was able to go much deeper with my own healing, get more curious than ever about the processes that happened within me that were keeping me stuck in a cycle of perpetual un-rest. I began to visualise my inner critic and acknowledge the attempts to protect me from external criticism. Learning about Richard Schwartz’s Internal Family Systems in 2021, the idea that some parts of us ‘make you take care of everyone around you and neglect yourself’ felt like I was understood for the very first time. I could tell my inner critic it that I was safe now, and that I could rest without fear of judgement. I began to tolerate the unease I felt when I had a big list of jobs but no energy to do them, using affirmations of permission with breath work to ease me into it. I read as much as I could about and practised self compassion, it became vital I did so, Paul Gilbert, author of The Compassionate Mind explains; ‘kindness, gentleness, warmth and compassion are like basic vitamins for our minds’.
Learning to rest for me is still a daily practice, I think there will always be some resistance. But I can enjoy the feeling of being rested, reading, watching something, knitting for pleasure, while dirty dishes sit on the worktop. While I acknowledge there are jobs to do.
If you struggle to rest it can be useful to acknowledge that there will be many layers to it. Some of it will be familial conditioning, definitely a huge part of societal conditioning, maybe some trauma in there too. Notice what goes through your body and thoughts when you engage in a restful non-productive activity. Do you feel guilty? do you feel embarrassed when someone walks into the room? Get curious.
Rest is neutral, it isn’t good or bad, so few things are. It’s just rest. It has no meaning. It’s just rest. Like we have to eat, we also need to rest.
An Invitation to Rest:
Rest is a basic human need, not a reward for productivity. Starting to rest with self-compassion begins with gently challenging the narrative that you must constantly “earn” your downtime.
A Few Steps to Begin:
Name the Critic: When your inner critic pipes up, give it a name or identity. This creates some distance, making it easier to notice that it’s just one part of you—not the whole truth.
Reframe the Thought: Instead of, “I haven’t done enough to rest,” try:
“Rest is what allows me to do my best work.”
“My worth isn’t tied to how much I accomplish.”
Start Small: If resting feels uncomfortable, begin with 5–10 minutes of intentional stillness and conscious breathing, 5 seconds in and 5 seconds out. Remind yourself that rest doesn’t have to look like lounging all day-it might mean sitting with a cup of tea, taking a slow walk, or lying down to breathe deeply.
Use a Self-Compassion Script: When guilt arises, try saying to yourself:
“It’s okay to feel guilty right now; I’m learning something new.”
“I am allowed to rest, even if I feel I haven’t earned it.”
Practice Daily Permission: Actively give yourself permission to rest, even if it feels strange. Write it down or say it out loud: “Today, I choose to rest because I deserve care, not because I’ve earned it.”
The more you practice resting with self-compassion, the quieter your inner critic will become. Over time, you’ll start to internalise the belief that rest isn’t a luxury-it’s a kindness you give yourself to keep going.
www.alicebramhill.co.uk
I too am learning to slow down and rest after years of living my life like a never ending to do list. I'm currently reading Lindsay Gibson's books about being raised by emotionally immature parents and they are a real eye opener for me. We're in Tenerife for a month at the moment and my initial reaction when we arrived was feeling we 'had to' go everywhere and see everything, but I'm happy just mooching about swimming in the sea, reading, practicing yoga on the beach and generally not doing very much at all. It's a daily practice not to fall into the ways of so many others and feeling odd because I'm happy just being, but this is the lifestyle that I now want to pursue. At 67, it's all about my wants and needs; if not now, when?
Karen 🙂
I loved reading this Alice. What a lot you had on you growing up as a young carer. I can relate to so much of what you shared here, especially about guilt being associated with rest. From my Scottish roots it was a heavy criticism to be female and "bone idle" which were words that pierced many of my day dreams! I've had to learn to find safety in resting. Starting this year slowly has helped me to rest more deeply in the darkest of winter. I hope I keep tuning into those needs when life gets busier in brighter months ahead.