The Guilt of Doing Nothing

What does “rest” mean to you as an artist and a human?

I’ll be honest — I don’t think I have a healthy relationship with rest. Every time I try to rest, I’m met with intense guilt. It’s like I can’t just be without my thoughts creeping in, so I stay busy.

Sure, I can “meditate” while I create — that beautiful state of flow where time disappears and I’m fully present in the process. But even that is still tied to productivity. Yes, I know rest is productive in its own way, but I can’t help but measure everything I do by its usefulness. Even when I’m doom-scrolling, I somehow turn that into research — saving trends, discovering artists, sharing events. And when I catch myself lying there scrolling, watching other people live their lives while I’m stuck in my own head, the guilt hits harder.

Lately, it feels like everything I do is just checking off a box on a to-do list. I don’t even know what rest means anymore — or what it actually feels like. As an artist, the line between work and rest is blurry. Creating puts me in a peaceful state, yes, but it's also often wrapped in stress about productivity.

It makes me wonder: has productivity under capitalism stolen the innocence of simply enjoying life? When did “rest” become another thing I have to earn?

I do practice yoga and breathwork — and yes, those moments feel nourishing. But I still question if that counts as rest. I’m also sensitive to socializing; even though I enjoy connecting with others, it often leaves me drained rather than recharged.

I guess I’m still figuring it out. Maybe rest is something I need to learn — maybe it does need to be a task at first, and that’s okay. Maybe rest is a practice, not a destination.

It’s something I’m sitting with.

What about you? How do you rest — and how do you define it for yourself? I’d really love to know.