Cultivating Through Rest
Finding balance between growth and rest to nurture the gifts that define us.
Cultivating What Matters
Two months ago, I started writing down my thoughts for a post and ended up writing a chapter of my life. Maybe one day it will grow into a book. But for now, it's simply me documenting my journey so my children will know it, remember it, and one day pass it along to their own children.
Then the holidays came, followed by the year that was January. So, I've taken some time off work to let my brain reset. It's been weeks of having too many tabs open.
My original post was going to be about perception, but I woke up today thinking about the piano.
I had one of those almost-awake dreams where someone called and said, "I heard you play the piano." It felt so real that I almost expected my phone to ring.
That led me to think about the last time I actually played my keyboard.
October.
That's the last time.
I haven't given myself the space to play-not to practice, but to create. If I don't allow myself that opportunity to cultivate this gift, it will eventually become a lost skill.
The Piano
This weekend, I reflected on a story my mother often told me. At six months old, I would crawl to the piano and gently press the keys. I wasn't banging on them; I was simply fascinated by the different sounds each key made. Of course, I don't remember this myself, but my mother loved telling the story, and we even had a picture of me sitting on the piano bench.
Then, at age four, she heard me playing songs I had learned at church. She knew it was time for piano lessons. Since she could only play by ear, she wanted me to learn everything I could and encouraged the interest she saw growing in me.
This morning, I realized that because I hadn't continued cultivating my musical abilities over the past six years, I had lost some of my ability to play by ear and recreate melodies as easily as I once could.
Cultivating Every Area of Life
Naturally, my mind wandered to other areas of my life.
Through my work, I've cultivated dormant skills, learned new ones, and developed my own creative approach. Those experiences have challenged me and helped me become better professionally.
But where would I be today if I hadn't given myself the space to cultivate those abilities?
Would I still be an average executive assistant simply following a routine?
Or would I be influencing change within my organization?
As I gave my brain time to think and reflect this afternoon, I found myself laughing and asking, "Who have I become?"
There I was, sitting quietly on the couch with a book and a cup of hot green tea.
Why was that so unusual?
Because if you know me, I'm usually surrounded by a digital device, a cup of coffee, and music playing in the background.
Mental Fatigue
The past six weeks of all-day meetings, process mapping, and continuous improvement projects have reminded me what mental fatigue truly feels like.
Human beings were not created to operate at 100 percent capacity 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
We need time to rest physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
It's during those periods of rest that we think, create, learn, and grow.
Last September, I listened to Lisa Bodell speak about simplicity and the importance of allowing ourselves time to think.
What would your first thought be if you walked past someone's office and saw them staring out the window?
If your immediate response was, "They should get back to work," then you've unintentionally added complexity to their life.
We must allow ourselves-and others-the space to think, create, learn, and grow.
Sometimes that means simply staring into space.
We are not robots, nor should we expect ourselves or anyone else to function like one.
We are human beings, and every one of us has a breaking point.
Perhaps that's one reason we're facing such a significant mental health crisis today.
We rarely allow ourselves siestas, long lunches, or afternoon walks.
And when I say we, I mean me.
I don't give myself those moments often enough either.
That's exactly why I took these days off-to spend time with books, quiet, and hot tea.
Very little screen time.
Very little noise.
The only thing missing is a cottage by the beach with warm ocean breezes.
Unfortunately, it's winter, and I'm nowhere near a beach.
Growth and Rest
Thinking back to this morning, why would I expect someone to call and compliment my piano playing if I haven't been cultivating that skill?
The same principle applies to every area of life.
If I want the promotion, the career change, the pay increase, or the next opportunity, I have to continue honing my craft-whatever that craft may be.
Expecting those things without continued growth simply isn't realistic.
There will always be someone who is better prepared.
Reading, studying, listening, observing, and learning are all part of cultivation.
Each requires time.
Yet here's the beautiful paradox:
The very activities that help us grow can also become part of our rest.
- Reading a physical book allows our eyes to escape blue light.
- Listening to a podcast or an audiobook gives our eyes a chance to rest.
- Following thoughtful leaders allows us to learn without always having to make every decision ourselves.
Growth and rest don't have to compete with one another.
Sometimes they work together.
So, I'll continue enjoying this season of rest before returning to the book in my hands and the hot tea beside me.
I hope you'll give yourself permission to do the same.
Until next time,
DJ
