There was a time when my life looked, from the outside, like I had it all together. I was standing at the peak of what many would call “success.” The year was 2016. My career was thriving. I had just been named one of Utah Business Magazine’s Top 30 Women to Watch. The bank I worked for was hitting record numbers, and I was traveling constantly—supporting our sales team, meeting with clients, helping expand our reach. On top of that, my social media showed family vacations in our RV, sun-soaked trips to Jamaica and Mexico, and snapshots of me serving as the board chair for a local nonprofit.

From the outside, it looked like I was “doing it all”—and doing it well. But the secret truth was that I was unraveling. Behind the photos and polished appearances, my inner life was crumbling. I was suffering from PTSD after an assault on a business trip. My marriage was in chaos. My body was in revolt—I was experiencing three to ten panic attacks every single day. And yet, the worse things got, the harder I clung to the mask. I smiled bigger, traveled more, added more to my calendar. I told myself I could fake it until it passed.

But it didn’t pass. It got worse. And the very act of denying my own needs—pretending I had it all together—was what harmed me most. Eventually, I couldn’t hold it anymore. I let the façade crash down, and in the wreckage I began to piece myself back together. That breaking point would eventually lead me to leave my corporate job of over 17 years and begin the slow, sacred work of rebuilding my life.

The Cost of the Hamster Wheel

Our society loves the hamster wheel. We applaud the person who is “always busy,” who works long hours, serves on committees, raises a family, and still somehow manages to smile through it all. We treat exhaustion like a badge of honor.

But why don’t we question this? Why do we continue to uphold burnout as the standard of success? Productivity is praised, while joy, presence, and aliveness are often overlooked. The mask of success may sparkle on the outside, but it erodes the foundation within.

Rest as Medicine, Rest as Resistance

The turning point in my own journey was realizing that rest isn’t weakness—it’s medicine. It’s not indulgence—it’s survival. To rest is to reclaim our humanity from a culture that demands we be machines.

But this shift didn’t happen overnight. Like most healing journeys, it was more of a dance than a straight line—three steps forward, four steps back, then two steps forward again. In the beginning, I truly didn’t know how to rest. My life had been so shaped by striving and achieving that stillness felt foreign, even dangerous.

When I first began experimenting with rest, I had to face a chorus of inner voices telling me I was lazy, unworthy, or falling behind. Years of programming had taught me that my value came only from what I produced. Undoing those patterns required time, intention, and a willingness to keep showing up for myself, even when it felt uncomfortable.

What I started to notice was that when I gave myself permission to pause—a morning off, an afternoon nap, or even a full day of rest—I actually became more effective in the long run. My old habit of pushing through until I was sick often left me sidelined for weeks. Now, I rarely get sick, not because my life is free from stress, but because I listen to the subtle messages my body sends. I’ve learned to honor the whisper before it becomes a scream.

No longer do I equate rest with laziness. I celebrate it. I welcome it. I see it as one of the most radical acts of self-trust I can practice.

Author and activist Tricia Hersey (founder of The Nap Ministries) writes:

“The Rest Is Resistance framework also does not believe in the toxic idea that we are resting to recharge and rejuvenate so we can be prepared to give more output to capitalism. What we have internalized as productivity has been informed by a capitalist, ableist, patriarchal system. Our drive and obsession to always be in a state of ‘productivity’ leads us to the path of exhaustion, guilt, and shame. We falsely believe we are not doing enough and that we must always be guiding our lives toward more labor. The distinction that must be repeated as many times as necessary is this: We are not resting to be productive. We are resting simply because it is our divine right to do so.”

To rest is to resist. To step off the hamster wheel is to refuse the lie that our worth is tied to output. And it is here, in this rebellion, that we move from striving to thriving.

And the more I practiced this rebellion in small, imperfect ways, the more I began to see rest not only as resistance, but as sacred.

Reclaiming Rest as a Sacred Act

Rest becomes transformative when we treat it as sacred.

• We block it like we would a meeting with someone important.

• We honor it as ritual, not an afterthought.

• We protect it as essential, not optional.

One of my own daily rituals is a cup of mushroom coffee every morning. (Everyday Dose is my brand of choice for those curious.) Within an hour of waking, I pour the water slowly, hold the warm mug in my hands, and take that first grounding sip. It’s not just about the adaptogens that support my ADHD brain—it’s the act of knowing I’ve given myself something nourishing before the world asks anything of me. This ritual feels like coming home to myself.

What Rest Looks Like (and Doesn’t Look Like)

Rest isn’t one-size-fits-all. It doesn’t have to mean napping (though it can). It doesn’t mean being idle. True rest is what restores your spirit and allows you to return to yourself.

It might look like:

• A slow walk in nature, the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot.

• Stretching on your yoga mat until your body sighs in relief.

• Journaling by candlelight with a blanket over your knees.

• Reading in a hammock, the sun warming your skin.

• A hot bath with the scent of lavender rising in the steam.

• Sketching, painting, or tending a garden.

• Sharing tea with a friend, laughter echoing in your chest.

It’s not about what you do—it’s about how intentionally you hold space for it, how you protect it from being eroded by busyness.

Protecting Your Sacred Rest

So, what would it look like to block rest into your calendar this week? To treat it with the same seriousness you treat your doctor’s appointments, your deadlines, your meetings?

What ritual could you claim as your own—something that makes you feel most alive, most at home in your skin?

I invite you to experiment. Rest not as an afterthought, not squeezed in when everything else is done, but as the foundation that allows everything else to be meaningful.

A Reframe on Success

We’ve been taught to aspire to the image of “having it all together.” But the truth is, success isn’t about juggling more balls without dropping them. It isn’t about a perfect façade.

Real success is wholeness. Real success is the courage to listen to your body, your heart, your spirit. Real success is allowing yourself to rest—and trusting that rest will carry you from striving into thriving.

Rest is not selfish. It’s not lazy. It’s medicine. It’s resistance. It’s sacred.

And if you’re ready to begin protecting your own sacred rest, I invite you to join me in my new course, Rest to Rise: Reclaiming Clarity, Creativity & Soul-Led Vision Through Rest—a space where you’ll learn how to move off the hamster wheel and into a life that truly feels like your own.