The Work

There is always work to do—even on vacation. Even when they work is rest.

I began turning that thought over in my mind last week during a bout of COVID, which admittedly is not the best state in which to suss out insights for living. In all the fever dreams and waking nightmares, however, that nugget held up far better than, say, the story idea about a fanged rabbit in basketball shorts who ran a gambling ring for area youth pastors.

COVID screws with your brain, okay? Let’s move on.

I began thinking of rest as work on Monday, three days before we were due to fly to Los Angeles for the trip to celebrate Denise’s graduation with her doctorate. This was one of those trip-of-a-lifetime type things, set to begin at the very edge of my last day in quarantine. It was imperative that I recover, not only do that I could enjoy the trip, but so that I could do so without putting her or anyone else in jeopardy. The best thing I could do for everyone involved was simply to rest up and get well.

That endeavor proved to be its own kind of agony. I am not wired to sit still. By Tuesday afternoon I’d had my fill of iPhone games and streaming services. I wanted to get up and do something. but my body wasn’t ready. It needed more time, more rest. That was the work before me, like it or not.

I took a similar attitude toward sleep once I started feeling better. By our third day in LA, i was well enough to pick back up the stresses and worries that anticipation and COVID dreams had crowded out. I could once again fret over the present, the future, my family, my job, money—always money, it seems. I could once again worry over everything with cold-eyed clarity.

Of course, such clarity comes at the price of sleep, and wakefulness demands a debt be paid. I wouldn’t be much of a companion to Denise on her big trip if I owed too much to the sleep bank. Once again, rest became the necessary work for future enjoyment.

All of this sucks, of course. Living in a human body is a hassle I just want everything to work on my time with whatever resources I can spare.

None of us get that wish, though. If we want to live well, we have to do the work of setting other things aside so that we can rest. We have to acknowledge our limitations and negotiate a partnership with them. Otherwise we burn out.

Framing rest as necessary work—akin to eating salads or exercising—makes it easier for me. Such mental framing makes it feel active rather than passive, a discipline rather than a waste of time. I still may not be great at embracing it, but it’s helping me step back, and to be a little better human in the waking hours.