As the busiest person I know, I’m slowly starting to realize just how sacred relaxation is the further into the semester I get. Between 16 credit hours, a social life, a love life, a job, involvement in orgs, tending to my apartment, and searching for both internships and scholarships, I can safely say that the temptation to burn out is drawing me in. The fall semester has been teaching me that having too much on my plate isn’t productive—it’s gluttonous.
In a culture that glorifies productivity, rest often feels like rebellion. From the moment we wake up, we’re surrounded by messages that equate our worth with our output. Whether it’s derived from societal pressures or intrinsic expectations, grades, job performance, and side hustles tend to represent our identities before our character does. The idea of doing “nothing” is framed as laziness, yet rest is one of the most essential forms of self-preservation.
Rest has become radical because it disrupts a system built on constant exhaustion. Capitalist and perfectionist mindsets thrive when people believe they must always be busy to prove their value. The more we work, the more we feed a system that monetizes our time and energy. Choosing to rest, therefore, challenges that narrative. Whether this rest comes in the form of reducing responsibilities or by simply scheduling time to do nothing, it’s crucial nonetheless.
This defiance is particularly powerful for marginalized groups, who have historically been denied rest, leisure, and autonomy. Scholar and activist Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry, calls rest a form of resistance against “grind culture,” especially for Black communities whose labor has been exploited for centuries. The ministry, with a mass following of an astounding 557k followers on Instagram, is a healing, spiritual art project that serves to examine how rest can be liberating in the face of capitalism and white supremacy through nap gatherings, workshops, and discussions. By encouraging Black people in particular to rest without guilt, Hersey challenges centuries of systemic exploitation, connecting self-care to social justice. Through this compelling perspective, resting is both a personal necessity and a political statement.
On a personal level, rest is not just about sleep—it’s about reclaiming time, space, and peace of mind. It’s allowing yourself to read for pleasure rather than necessity, take a walk without checking emails, or spend a day without updating your to-do list. It’s the quiet recognition that you deserve to exist outside of your deadlines. Whether it’s something or someone that needs your attention, it’s important to recognize the ability to step back and demand a moment for yourself.
Resting does not mean giving up ambition. It means sustaining it. When we rest, we give our minds room to imagine, to create, and to heal. True productivity comes from balance, not burnout. In a world that tells us to move faster, resting is not a pause—it’s a statement.