Why Rest Is a Physical Practice

Why Rest Is a Physical Practice

by Suchu Tanyetz

In a culture obsessed with productivity, rest is often treated as an absence—an empty space between important events. But what if rest is not what we do when we’re done, but a practice in itself? What if it’s as vital to our physical health as movement, nutrition, or breath?

We tend to treat our bodies like machines, fueled by sleep just enough to keep running. But our bodies are not machines. They are soft systems: cyclical, adaptive, and deeply affected by the quality of our rest. Rest isn’t simply the opposite of action—it is action of a different kind. It is the process of repair, integration, and recalibration. Without it, nothing holds.

Rest Isn’t Lazy—It’s Layered

There’s a tendency to conflate rest with laziness. But laziness is a value judgment; rest is biological. During sleep, the brain clears out waste proteins, the immune system recharges, and the body engages in tissue repair. Even when awake, forms of intentional rest—napping, daydreaming, stillness, sensory withdrawal—help reduce inflammation and regulate cortisol. You don’t have to earn these benefits with burnout first.

What Does It Mean to Practice Rest?

Like any practice, rest takes commitment. It asks us to slow down when the world says speed up. To notice when our bodies are overstimulated, overtired, or overriding themselves in the name of “just finishing one more thing.”

To practice rest means to schedule it, protect it, and sometimes even rehearse it. This could mean:

  • Micro-pauses throughout the day: a breath, a body scan, eyes closed for a minute.

  • Pre-bed rituals: low lights, screens off, one soft thing you do only at night.

  • Non-sleep rest: lying down with no expectation of napping, just a letting go.

Rest for the Restless

Some bodies don’t like to lie still. Some minds don’t quiet on command. For many (myself included), rest is not the easiest thing. But rest can take many forms: floating, swaying, rocking, curling up, soft vocalization, rhythmic tapping. The nervous system often responds better to rest with gentle movement or structured containment.

Rest can be a hammock. It can also be a blanket fort.

The Politics of Permission

Rest is not distributed equally. Not everyone feels allowed to rest. For marginalized bodies, for those who are caregiving, surviving, or resisting systems that extract labor and attention—rest can be an act of defiance. It can be a form of body sovereignty. A declaration: I am not a resource to be depleted.

Tricia Hersey of The Nap Ministry calls this rest as resistance. I return to that phrase often. It reminds me that when I rest, I am not doing nothing. I am doing something vital.

In Closing

Physical health is not just about how fast you move, how far you go, or how much you lift. It’s also about how you let go. Rest is not the absence of activity; it is the activity of healing. It is physical. It is emotional. It is cultural. And for many of us, it is overdue.