“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 too. You know deep down that you need to rest, but the messaging you’ve received along the way is that rest will render you useless. With this belief system driving our lives, of course we resist rest. We are taught from early on to value speed, productivity, career, money, material things, competition, and financial success.

Slowing down and noticing my COWs was life-changing for me, especially when it came to rest.

Your COWs may sound a bit like this:

• I don’t have time to rest.
• It’s selfish to prioritize resting.
• Rest has to look a certain way.
• In order to rest, I have to get x, y, and z done first.
• I am not good at resting.
• I’ll rest once everything is checked off my to-do list.
• I don’t have the support I need.
• I will start resting tomorrow.
• My mind is too active; I’m easily distracted.
• I have too many urgent things to do.
• My family and career depend on me; it’s just not possible for me to rest.

Maybe your COWs are listed here, or maybe they sound like something different, but it’s worth giving your COWs (also called limiting beliefs) some thought.

Ask yourself: What was I taught about rest? What do I believe about rest? Who, if anyone, modeled or practiced self-care or rest for me? What message did I receive about the worth of rest?

While our COWs might seem ‘bad’ for us and things to be eradicated, I invite you to consider that COWs can be a portal to know ourselves better and heal.

Bringing our COWs to the surface gives us a choice about how we are going to heal them and work through them. When we’re unaware of our COWs, the choices we make around rest are restricted to whatever our beliefs allow, making it challenging to rest.

Examining our COWs around rest leads us to deep inquiry so that we can empower ourselves to slowly choose a better rhythm for our lives.

We are a culture that is tired to the bone. Rest offers us a restorative healing balm for anxiety, exhaustion, overexertion, and illness. Rest is a potent medicine, as essential to the body as water. When we’re dehydrated, we’re miserable. And we feel the same when we are unrested.

Urgency does not have to be our baseline. We can choose differently. We can untangle ourselves from the faulty programming of our culture, systems, and upbringings when it comes to rest. We can learn to slow down. We can learn to embody presence and ease. We can learn to rest.

Rest still doesn’t come easily for me. At times, I fight it, wanting to get more done at a faster pace. That old, familiar rush of adrenaline feels familiar to my system, and yet deep in my bones, I know that urgency isn’t sustainable. Urgency is coming from a part of me that longs to be seen as worthy, good, loved, and enough.

Softness, slowness, groundedness, and presence are the gifts that rest offers me. Life happens fast enough as it is, and when I’m unrested, I miss so much.

My invitation is to begin exploring your relationship with rest. While it might seem simple or not worthwhile, I promise, it is some of the deepest and most rewarding work you will ever do.

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