Feeling Depleted? How to Overcome Your Internal Barriers to Resting

“Rest is not necessarily a cessation of all activity but a means of going inward, going deeper. Rest is what allows us to go beneath the surface, if we make the time for it. Rest gives us the gift of perspective, and rest invites us into new ways of being and showing up in the world.” ~Ashely Neese

I was probably about sixteen when my dad and I were driving down Main Street in our small town at about 1 or 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

As my dad looked out the passenger seat window, he noticed a man out …

“Rest is not necessarily a cessation of all activity but a means of going inward, going deeper. Rest is what allows us to go beneath the surface, if we make the time for it. Rest gives us the gift of perspective, and rest invites us into new ways of being and showing up in the world.” ~Ashely Neese

I was probably about sixteen when my dad and I were driving down Main Street in our small town at about 1 or 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

As my dad looked out the passenger seat window, he noticed a man out on an afternoon run. For most people, this wouldn’t be a topic to even give another thought to; however, to my dad, this was unimaginable.

He turned, looked at me, and said, “What in the world do you think he’s doing?”

My dad couldn’t comprehend that someone might be out midday enjoying themselves, doing something other than working.

I’ve thought a lot about that day since, because it was the moment when I began to recognize where my view of rest, productivity, and my personal worth collided.

All my father has ever known is work. This past year, he has suffered multiple heart attacks, and yet he still scoffs at the idea of rest.

Work was where my dad learned early on to escape from his dysfunctional upbringing. Work was where he could hide from my mother’s constant nagging.

Work was where my father felt he was enough.

Growing up in this environment, work, productivity, and striving became deeply embedded in my nervous system. Productivity and proving myself were how I felt appreciated, seen, enough, and worthy.

I never consciously thought about these things or said them out loud, but they showed up in subtle ways, like in my relationship with time. I never believed there was enough time, which caused me to feel behind, rushed, and internally chaotic.

Until the past couple of years, I never knew what it was like to not live in urgency mode. I was trapped in a familiar anxious nervous system, which robbed me of the rest and renewal that my body desperately craved.

Living in survival mode kept me rushing, busy, and frenetic, avoiding the deeper work that was required for me to slow down and create the space that I craved.

My conditioning led me to believe:

• If I wasn’t productive, I wasn’t worthy.
• If I wasn’t producing, I was lazy.
• If I wasn’t hustling, I would fall behind.

These are what I call my COWs. My CONDITIONS OF WORTH.  

It was as if I was codependent with the outside world, believing that everyone outside of me depended on me, and if I didn’t follow through and perform, please, and be productive, I wasn’t ‘good.’ All of this combined kept my nervous system heightened, causing me to live in a state of urgency. And urgency makes it impossible to rest.

Between fried adrenals, constant anxiety, and extreme fatigue, I eventually had to succumb to the idea that rest might be the medicine I needed. I’ve worked with a lot of extraordinary modalities through my healing journey, but rest was a topic I had always resisted.

I believed that rest was wrong, and in order to be good, I had to keep pushing and proving and make something of myself. Rest felt disobedient. Slowing down and becoming still brought up too much discomfort, so even though rest was the medicine I needed, I resisted.

Maybe this resonates with you