Rest Now, or Burnout Later

Give yourself a break before your body does it for you

A few months back, I had a conversation with a friend, explaining the intricate relationship between my body and mental state. I shared with him my realization that whenever I'm living out of alignment, my body, despite my conscious awareness, becomes the first messenger. It manifests tension, flare-ups, or digestive disruptions—a subtle yet powerful nudge to slow down.

As I explained the sensitivity and intelligence of my body, my friend seemed perplexed. His lack of body awareness (understandable given his different life experiences) highlighted a common struggle many face in grasping this concept. In simple terms…

Choose to rest or your body will force you to rest. 

During my recovery from surgery over the summer, I stumbled upon Louise Hay's transformative book, "You Can Heal Your Life." It became my guiding light, offering practical and spiritual wisdom for emotional and physical healing. Her key message is that, “If we are willing to do the mental work, almost anything can be healed.” She explains how limiting beliefs and ideas are often the cause of illness, and how if you change your thinking, you can change your life. 

There is a glossary at the end of the book with various illnesses, symptoms and physical problems along with the corresponding emotion/belief that’s tied to it. Fevers symbolize anger, while constipation signifies emotional stagnation. These insights, though simple, unveil the profound connection between mind and body. I come back to this glossary pretty often.

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While I won't delve into the intricacies of my health journey at this moment, I've grappled with chronic illness and its accompanying trauma, therefore prioritizing stillness has been my most potent form of healing in order to find solace in my body. But whenever I face a setback in my health journey—a flare-up, a new symptom—I find myself paralyzed. Anger bubbles up as my body forces yet another pause on my ambitions, dreams, and relationships. It feels like my soul yearns to soar, yet my body loses the capacity to do so. Positive affirmations fade, replaced by a chorus of doubt: "What am I missing? How much more can I take? Why is this happening?" But with the awareness that I have, along with the unconditional love I’ve cultivated towards my body for its wisdom, I recognize the deeper message: a call to slow down, to recalibrate, to reconnect. While I still hear that negative voice, I no longer listen to it.

I'll be honest—truly resting is sometimes a monumental challenge for me. Even when circumstances force me to pause, my mind races with all the tasks left undone. Or even worse, the moment I have a burst of energy, I slip back into old habits... until my body intervenes with a resounding, "Enough!"

Burn-out is not a concept in some imminent reality; it is happening to us everyday. 

All forms of tension–mental, physical or emotional–are just signs asking for your attention. Therefore, I've come to understand that burnout comes in three distinct forms: mental, physical, and the all-encompassing full-body burnout. Even if we don't recognize it, we're likely experiencing burnout in some capacity or another. In this modern age, it's almost unavoidable. Just take a moment to think about it.

Three decades ago, the workday ended at 5pm. People shut down their computers and headed home, with a solid 5-6 hours to truly unwind, connect with loved ones, exercise, and enjoy leisure activities. Entertainment was confined to the living room, and once upstairs, there were no digital distractions. This lack of overstimulation facilitated restorative sleep.

Fast forward to today, and our workdays resemble more like 7am to 10pm rituals. We start by checking emails before the official workday begins, mentally bracing ourselves for the impending chaos. We linger in the office longer than necessary, striving to get ahead. We take calls during commutes, multitasking even during doctor's appointments, and scarf down lunch in brief 15-minute windows. On the way home, we're still immersed in work—writing emails, attending Zoom meetings, or preparing presentations—while trying to motivate ourselves with podcasts, newsletters or books. 

When we arrive home, dinner becomes a rushed affair, devoured in twenty minutes while catching up on TV shows. Yet, even in supposed downtime, we're tethered to our phones. We doom-scroll and compare ourselves and watch this TikTok and answer that text message and before we know it, relaxation eludes us, and we're more wound up than when we first sat down. For entrepreneurs or those with side hustles, the boundary between work and personal time blurs into a never-ending 24/7 cycle. Even as we’re flying up in the air, physically disconnected from the world below, our instinct is to seek connection through WiFi. We simply can’t stop.

Our brains simply weren't designed for this level of stimulation, and deep down, we know it. Conversations with friends, once centered on the hustle and social outings, now gravitate towards yearning for simplicity and a return to nature. We are consciously aware of these desires, yet struggle to act in accordance with them. 

None of this is mindful. None of this is human. None of this is…necessary.

Beginning in March, my body reached its breaking point. Likely, it was the culmination of juggling myriad roles—employee, entrepreneur, author, and someone still on a healing journey. I fell seriously ill, not once, but twice, and even faced a health scare that forced me to unapologetically step away from work and seek refuge at my parents' house.

During those two days, I immersed myself in the simplicity of being. I sat outside, soaking up the sun's warmth. I walked barefoot on the grass, listening to the soothing cadence of a Ram Dass meditation on repeat. I listened to the birds chirping and I wandered through a nearby park, immersed in the trees swaying back and forth. I abstained from scrolling, content creation, and email checks. Instead, I surrendered to the present moment—physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

As I went to bed that evening, I reflected on the day's simplicity and realized its profound beauty. Despite my body's frailty, those hours were filled with goodness simply because I disconnected from the digital world and reconnected with my inner world. 

This experience compelled me to take a deeper look at myself and pose a crucial question: "Is it all worth it? The pressure, the comparisons, the relentless rush, the constant hustle... Is it truly worth it?" Somehow, we've reached a point where rest is seen as the antithesis of hard work. We grant ourselves permission to stay in on a Friday night only if the week was particularly chaotic, or we feel deserving of a day off only when there's a legitimate excuse. 

Yet, rest is an inherent human right, and we have history to prove it. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, the significance of rest is woven into the fabric of the biblical narrative. After creating the world in six days, God rested on the seventh day, sanctifying it as a day of rest and setting a precedent for humanity. Similarly, Stoic philosophers like Seneca and Marcus Aurelius championed moderation and balance, highlighting the importance of taking time for oneself and finding tranquility amid the busyness of daily life.

Now, I'm not suggesting that neglecting rest will inevitably lead to a month-long health scare. But I am saying that if we fail to consciously unwind and slow down, our bodies will inevitably send us unmistakable signals. True rest goes beyond physical relaxation—it's about nurturing every part of ourselves. It's about quieting the mind and connecting with the heart, immersing ourselves in nature, engaging in creative pursuits solely for the joy of it, exploring new hobbies, or simply delving into a good book. 

So, after you're done here, set aside your phone or shut your laptop, and embrace an offline activity without any guilt, shame or resentment. I promise, your body deserves it. 

With love,

Karin