The Incomparable Magic of Intentional Rest

On having the courage to take back what you need.

All photos © The Autumn Chronicles

I am an early riser. Chronically so, in fact and particularly in the summer when I am frequently awake at first light. I used to find this endlessly frustrating but, as time has passed, I have come to appreciate the beauty of being awake while the world is silent. It gives me a chance to ground myself in a new day before I lose myself in the weight of expectations and obligations, organisation and chaos.

My morning ritual always begins the same way: with the friendly chirrups and soft nuzzles of my two cats. I love to pad downstairs in the cool of the early morning and feel the wooden floors against the soles of my feet. I head to the kitchen, make some coffee and take it upstairs to my writing room. I sit by the window and enjoy watching the world come to life as I wait, listening to the birds chattering in the trees in my garden and letting my mind wander aimlessly before it succumbs to the structure of the day.

Seeking Quiet

I have never been successful at meditating. I have tried, many times over the years, but I could never still my thoughts for long enough for it to be effective. I would always end up thinking about the online food shop I needed to edit or the seemingly never-ending tasks on my to do list; my mind a constant whir and blur of action and planning. As a recovering perfectionist, not being able to calm my thoughts for long enough to meditate made me feel like a failure and then discouraged me from doing it at all. At the weekends, instead of relaxing, I would try to fit in as many chores as possible so I could feel I had been productive, that I hadn’t wasted time.

Over the last year, I have felt the need for more space in my life. I was lacking in creativity, stumbling through the hours just to get through the day. I was persistently exhausted by the weight of my own expectations, by how much I felt I had to achieve in order to feel successful or like my life had meaning. I would stretch myself too thin, answer every text message or every email immediately so I didn’t forget, take on the organisation, the responsibility, the planning because at least then I could be sure it would get done. I like to be in control, to put it politely, so the idea of taking my foot off the pedal and letting other people take the reins was not something that ever came naturally to me and, sometimes, was completely unpalatable. What if they didn’t do it right? What if they didn’t do it at all?

What if it didn’t really matter?

Perhaps what I have needed all along is intentional rest; the kind that allows you to restock the reserves and to draw energy back within, saving it for when you need it the most. For me, it is those few moments of peace in the morning, when I can be all alone and quiet in the stillness, which provide me with the inner calm I need to begin the day. If the weather is nice, I will sit outside with my coffee and watch the cats poke around the flowerbeds. If it is rainy or cold, I will sit at my desk and write in my journal, brainstorming ideas for pieces of writing, trips I want to take, recipes I want to cook, gifts I want to buy for upcoming birthdays – not because I have to, but because I choose to. Not because it is my responsibility, but because it allows me to replenish what I feel is lacking.  

It has taken me a long time to realise that I don’t have to be doing all the time to be successful. If autumn is a symbol of maturity, and if part of being mature is having the courage to do what you need, it has become much more important to take stock of what is around me and make careful decisions about where to spend my energy. To prize fewer, deeper relationships over many superficial ones. To prioritise the things that really matter to me and to spend more time doing those things, without the guilt for all the other things I feel I should be doing. To give myself permission to slow down and enjoy the quiet, without feeling the need to define my life by my busyness.  

I’d love to know: what does intentional rest look like for you?