Rest.

In almost every culture on Earth, there's the idea that for one day a week, or a certain nights, or certain mornings, you rest.

Don't leave the house. Don't do the budget. Don't even clean. You just sit or lay and let your body and mind recuperate. You do nothing.

And friend, after the intensity of the Olympics, I am really feeling why those traditions exist. After everything had finished, I got up this past Monday, ready to go - and felt my body, mind, and soul say, "Not today, Steven. Today, we rest."

And so I rested. Pretty much the whole week. I worked hard when it was time to work, but the rest of the time, I simply watched the clouds roll past my apartment window. Watched the stars turn, the Eiffel Tower light up and eventually go dark. Felt my body get sore, then unsore, repairing muscles and neurons that'd been strained over and over.

It got me thinking about how the role of rest in our lives - real rest, no scrolling, no streaming, no menial chores or planning. Just time alone with our thoughts and emotions, letting them untangle, settle, put down good roots.

One of the biggest casualties of the attention economy has been our downtime. Phones and tablets have an infinite number of experiences ready to fill that void, in just the way we want.

(And by "want", I mean the way a tech startup has gamified some aspect of human psychology and physiology to give us tiny hits of brain chemicals: a slow IV drip of not quite living for us; of recurring income for them.)

And I'm not immune - my screen time notes exactly how much time I spend in a normal week on youtube, playing chess, or some random mobile game - and it disturbs me to see those weekly numbers. And I don't have any magical fixes.

But this week, resting, really resting, I realized that I'm not getting enough of that "genuinely nothing" time, to let my batteries really refill. And that I want to be a more intentional about finding time to do just that.

Hours, stacked up against each other, to let myself heal, let myself be, and to knit all the life that's happened back into me.

Wishing you the rest you need this week, too.

With lots of love,

-Steven

p.s. The best thing I saw all week was literally clouds. Maybe there are some good ones outside your window right now, too. :)