When Rest Is Resistance

I’m nearing the end of a month-long trip with my family—working and playing as we go, winding through Colorado. This time has been healing in ways I didn’t realize I needed: meandering hikes, slow mornings, deep laughter, hours of unscheduled space to breathe, to remember who I am beyond the grind.

And yet, the world hasn’t paused.

News keeps breaking. Injustices persist. Needs in our communities still call out. There are realities waiting for us when we return—some that weigh heavy, some simply unfinished.

It’s easy to feel guilt about stepping away. To wonder if rest is a luxury we can’t afford, or worse, a form of disengagement. But I’ve been reminded again and again that rest is not a retreat from responsibility—it’s a re-rooting.

Rest is resistance.

In a culture that equates worth with productivity, choosing play and presence is radical. Allowing joy, choosing stillness, tending to your own body and spirit—these are not indulgences. They’re what prepare us to re-enter the world more whole, more grounded, and more ready to meet what’s next with clarity, compassion, and conviction.

Whether you’re in a season of movement or stillness, of transition or tension, I hope you’ll give yourself permission to pause. Rest doesn’t mean forgetting what matters. It’s how we remember who we are and why we care in the first place.