Giving Yourself Permission to Rest
Dawn Cannon | MAR 6, 2025

I remember the day I picked up Running on Empty by Jonice Webb. The book found me at the depths of loneliness, sadness, and heartbreak. My life was unraveling—an assault had shattered my sense of safety just weeks before, PTSD had taken root in my body, and my marriage was accelerating toward divorce. I was beginning to see myself more clearly than ever, but what I saw, I hated. I blamed myself for everything.
Reading that book felt like Webb had written it just for me. It was as if someone had finally turned on a light in a dark room I had been stumbling through my entire life. Each page held a mirror to my experience, reflecting truths I wasn’t sure I was ready to face. I would hesitate before turning each page, dreading what revelations lay ahead yet unable to stop reading. I finished the book in two days, and by the time I closed it, something in me had shifted. I could never unsee what I had seen.
The book introduced me to the concept of Emotional Neglect—a childhood wound that isn’t as visible as abuse but leaves scars just as deep. It explained why I moved through life with an insatiable need to do, do, do. Why I felt like I had to earn my worth. Why stillness felt unbearable.
Coming out of a rough childhood, I had learned early that achievement was the only path to validation. At 18, I got married. I worked full-time while earning my bachelor’s degree with a 3.97 GPA. When I struggled with infertility, I threw myself into an MBA program, graduating with a 4.0 while continuing to work full-time. When my daughter died, I buried my grief in work. Career success became my refuge—it never asked me to feel, only to perform. From the outside, I looked like I had it all together. Inside, I was exhausted.
Then, during a business trip, the assault happened. It was the final weight on an already overloaded cart of trauma. Everything collapsed. I could no longer carry the burden. That moment catapulted me toward true healing.
And yet, healing wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t a straight road or a tidy checklist. If I mapped my journey, it would look like a tangled ball of yarn—knotted, messy, unraveling and rewinding over and over. If I could go back and whisper one thing to my younger self in that moment of collapse, it would be this:
Give yourself permission to rest. You are worthy of rest.
For those of us who have tied our worth to productivity, this truth is almost impossible to accept. It took me nearly eight years to fully understand it. Even as a yoga teacher, I thought I knew how to rest. I had left the corporate world (the first time), but I filled the space immediately—yoga teacher training, a writing apprenticeship, new projects. My version of “rest” still looked like overachievement.
It wasn’t until I began my Yoga Nidra teacher training in early 2024 that I finally saw my patterns clearly. I had always responded to struggle by piling more onto my plate because accomplishment felt like medicine. But my Yoga Nidra practice became my sanctuary. I committed to daily practice—45 minutes of deep rest. It forced me to sit with myself, to soften, to unlearn the belief that I had to earn my right to just be.
Unintentionally, 2024 became my year of rest. To the outside world, it might look like I accomplished little. But inside, I transformed. I finally understood the space I had always spoken about as a yoga teacher—the space where worth isn’t tied to doing or achieving, but to the simple, sacred act of existing.
What would it take for you to give yourself permission to rest? What beliefs do you hold about rest and self-worth? If you’re ready to take a step toward rest, here are some ways to begin:
Today, I invite you to consider: What would change if you allowed yourself to rest? How would your life feel if you stopped proving and simply were?
If you’re ready to step into rest, I’ve created meditation practices to support your journey. Visit The Creatrix Store to explore guided meditations, including Yoga Nidra practices designed to help you reclaim the rest you deserve.
Because you are worthy of rest. Just as you are.
Photo Credit: Image by DanaTentis from Pixabay
Dawn Cannon | MAR 6, 2025
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