When Rest Feels Like Work

I find it hard to rest. The thought of resting alone stirs an anxiety I can’t even explain. Maybe it’s because I don’t fully believe in my path yet, or because I’m still trying to understand where I’m going. Maybe it’s because in the past, when I paused to figure things out, I was called lazy.

Even now, it’s hard to admit that my body is tired. All I do is give readings, hold space for others, pour out my energy — and yet I’m still learning how energy really works. I want to rest, but at the same time I want to move. I want to do something.

Sometimes, I think I confuse boredom with tiredness. I know this might sound all over the place, but this is where my head is right now. I know I probably need to sit down, lie down, and just be — maybe even scroll aimlessly. But something inside me whispers that I shouldn’t.

I wrestle with uncertainty. I wrestle with wondering if I’m doing the right thing, even though I’m doing Spirit work. I suffer from loneliness. And if I’m honest, sometimes I work just to distract myself from the fact that I’m not where I want to be — even though I can see things moving in the right direction.

I’m ready for an adventure. An adventure in love.

My life has been mostly isolation for the last five years. People come and go, but few stay. And I’m tired.

My spirit craves rest, but not the kind my body is begging for. I whisper this prayer often:

Please, Lord, do it for me. Teach me how to rest. Teach me how to trust. Teach me how to be.

If you’ve ever felt this tension — wanting to pause but feeling guilty for it — you’re not alone. Rest isn’t laziness. Rest is a holy practice. And learning to rest is part of learning to trust that life, Spirit, and God are still moving even when we’re still.

✨ Reflection Question:

Do you ever struggle with giving yourself permission to rest? What does true rest look like for you?

💬 I’d love to hear from you:

Share your thoughts in the comments below — your story may be the encouragement someone else needs.