#3: Hold Yourself In Rest

Hello Friends,

Welcome back to HELD, a space to slow down, feel more deeply, and explore the rhythms of love, presence, and intimacy.

This issue touches on something many of us wrestle with, even if we don’t always name it. How do we rest?

In a world full of noise, urgency, and pressure, real rest can feel unfamiliar. Sometimes even uncomfortable.

I hope today’s story brings you back to your own body and your own truth. I hope it helps you nourish your heart, body, and mind with kindness, as you give yourself permission to rest.

~ Leo

I WAS TIRED, I CRIED.

For many years, I felt that taking a nap meant I was being lazy. Or worse, that something was wrong with me.

Whenever I felt the need for one, I carried guilt with me. Even when I knew I was running on too little sleep, I still heard an inner voice saying I should be doing more.

When I did nap, I’d hear my kids or my wife say “Oh, you’re taking your nap now…” in a tone that felt loaded. I know they didn’t mean harm, but it always felt like a criticism.

This month, I began a new practice of tracking my emotions and physical sensations throughout the day. Just noticing and recording on my phone how I was feeling as I moved through my routines.

On my drive home, I noticed my energy dropping fast. I was fighting off sleep behind the wheel. That’s not new. But this time, I was primed to pay attention.

I realized something obvious I had never quite noticed before: the drive home is exhausting.

Thirty-five minutes of traffic, constant decision-making, navigating a hundred small stressors - and New Jersey drivers! It definitely takes something out of me.

And that’s just the drive.

Each day, I spend eight hours in a classroom with over twenty teenagers. I hold space for them, manage their energy, guide their learning, and I stay composed, even when life behind the scenes is hard.

Showing up like that each day takes its toll.

Plus, I sleep about six hours a night. I run my household. I raise my kids.

All of these facts came rushing in: I have every reason to be tired on my way home.

This tiredness isn’t weakness. It’s honesty.

When I got home that day, I put my hand on my chest and gently said to myself “Oh, Leo. You’re tired, aren’t you? You’re tired.”

I broke down in tears.

I felt them before I even knew what they were about.

Something inside me had finally been heard.

I wasn’t pushing through or pretending. I was listening. I was being kind.

That moment gave me something I didn’t know I needed—a felt sense of compassion from me to me.

And from that, deep rest became possible.

KEY TAKEAWAYS:
REST IS GOOD

The world we live in doesn’t make rest easy.

When we finally get a quiet moment, we often reach for our phones. We scroll. We check. We consume. But that rarely leaves us feeling restored.

Scrolling is still doing. It asks for constant micro-decisions. It floods our system with noise and comparison. Our bodies may stop, but our minds don’t.

Real rest is stillness and presence.

Rest is watching the feelings, holding the feelings, and then letting go … not doing anything, just surrendering, trusting the soft stillness of presence, calm, maybe even sleep.

Most of us spend our days giving. We give others our energy, our focus, our care. We show up for work, for family, for life. We stay strong even when we feel fragile.

After that kind of effort, our minds and bodies need a restful time to restore.

Rest is self-care.

Keep in mind, there’s a natural cycle that much of the world recognizes. In much of Latin America and the Mediterranean, shops close in the early afternoon and people rest. An afternoon nap is built into the day.

These rhythms respect how human bodies work. We used to understand this. Our bodies remember.

I’ll end by mentioning that rest is also deeply woven into the fabric of the religion and faith.

Have you ever tried to pray while checking your inbox? Or reflect on your relationship to Spirit while juggling your to-do list? It just doesn’t work. Have you ever noticed that when we pray in church, we close our eyes and rest in stillness?

When we refuse to rest, when we convince ourselves we’re too important, too busy, too responsible to pause, something else is on the throne. When we allow rest, we allow ourselves to reflect, to surrender, and perhaps to connect to something greater.

Rest is sacred.