What is Rest, Really?

I once wrote about resting and I still believe in it.
But today, as I sit here, trying to be idle for two straight days, a new question hums in my bones.

Is it sleep?
Is it the mountains swallowing me whole?
Is it the ceiling staring contest I keep losing?

I thought rest meant doing nothing. But doing nothing still asks for an effort. Even idleness has a pulse, a hunger, a restlessness.

Maybe true rest is letting boredom bloom again. Not stuffing it with scrolling, not fixing it with self-improvement, but sitting through its slow, ancient dance.

Return to that forgotten, soft place where doing nothing meant being alive.

Cheers

PS: On mute. Cold-stayed!

Check out the other post Home

If you like what you see and wish to support my work, then

Share your thoughts/suggestion at the comment section or mail at

randomwhyss[@]gmail[dot]com

Don’t miss out! Get notified about new blog posts straight to your inbox !

(No spam, pinky promise!)

Enter your mail to receive updates