notes on rest:

I’ve never understood bad people or government policies that cause harm. My thought is always, “it would’ve taken way less effort to make a good and helpful decision, because oftentimes, (or at least in Texas) that requires no action whatsoever.” Like why are these high-up officials working so hard to put their constituents in harm’s way? It really doesn’t add up to me...

But I’m starting to see some of my own cognitive dissonance and relate to the strain of it that’s been going around for a year and a half now. Because I literally just started doing things again. For a year and a half, I haven’t really seen my friends indoors. I haven’t gone on dates, not even outside, for a year and a half. And this past month, I’ve started doing those things--those things that many would consider “safe.” That many have been doing all along. 

What was I doing when “everyone” (or IG made it seem like everyone) was living? I was inside my parents’ house. Seeing friends through a screen. Doing nothing but enjoying my family’s company and sharing anxieties about the crumbling world. 

But I’ve moved out now and I sit alone in my apartment and in my resentment of the situation we’ve found ourselves in. Resentful that none of my friends are “safe enough” to hang out with. That I wouldn’t even hang out with myself because I work as a barista at a cafe that doesn’t require customers to wear a mask...which, as I write it out makes NO FUCKING SENSE!?!? How is that not a mandate when ICU beds are all full!? We’re worse off than we were when we still required masks...and yet masks aren’t mandated and I’m taking more risks. It makes no logical sense. 

There’s no real point to this essay, other than to reiterate and accept how fucking exhausting this is and how fucking tired I am of navigating this world through this pandemic. Like this shit is so much heavier the more I look at it...but even if I chose not to look at the mess we’re in, it’d still be just as heavy, I’d just be ignorant of its weight on my psyche. 

And I’d rather pull an emotional muscle and become bedridden with depression and confusion than with Covid-19. Which is a decision that none of us should have to be making, yet it is a responsibility falling on our individual shoulders because our government has failed us and the entire world. 

Which reminds me of another point of exhaustion--imagine it’s your job to keep civilians safe and you just...don’t. That’d be like me going to work and not making coffee. Sure, it’s not dangerous, but it sure as hell is confusing, annoying, and exhausting for those that I’m meant to be serving.

So, “rest,” in the greater scheme of a Year of Healing (from a year and a half of pandemic) has meant feeling the exhaustion, listening to it, and heeding it. Emotional fatigue is not lethal, but the Coronavirus is. It might be exhausting to feel so alienated and stay indoors when I used to be a very social person, but at least I haven’t had to be intubated. The heartbreak of seeing imperialism destroy countries and human life is so wearying, but at least I haven’t gone numb to the evils of the world. 

Taking a break and realizing the depths of fatigue rather than dissociating from this reality is not an easy task. Sitting with exhaustion feels like I’ll never be able to get up and move again. But feelings aren’t facts and the clarity that a month of rest has given me around what’s happening in the world and where I stand in all of it is as empowering as it is distressing. 

I’m not an expert on social change, but what I’ve uncovered this month is that distress isn’t the end of the fight, but usually the beginning. Seeing what’s not working and why it’s left us feeling so run-down are liberating facts to work with. Knowing what drains our energy is much better knowledge than just realizing we’re depleted. I’m not sure where the motivation to keep it moving comes from, but for me, the question has always been, “well, what else would I be doing?” 

“Rest” is not the antithesis of “doing,” but rather part of it. It’s why we have to sleep every night. Why the seasons change. If we ignored our need to stop and rest, we would eventually hit a wall, forcing us into uncomfortable amounts of downtime. 

But when we listen to our bodies and minds, hearing them beg for a break, rest becomes a choice. An act of rebellion in a society that treats us like machines. An opportunity to slow down to a halt and just breathe. To rest is to be able to do, to recognize and respect the rhythms and necessities of being a sentient organism.