Rest is a form of resistance — Tricia Hersey
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
What's one small action this suggests?
Reframing Rest as Power
Tricia Hersey’s claim that “Rest is a form of resistance” flips a familiar moral script. Instead of treating exhaustion as proof of virtue and constant productivity as the default measure of worth, she presents rest as an intentional choice that challenges what society rewards. In this view, stopping is not quitting; it is refusing to be defined by output alone. This reframing matters because it moves rest from the category of personal indulgence to collective significance. Once rest is understood as power, it becomes easier to see how time, energy, and attention are political resources—and how choosing to pause can disrupt systems that depend on depletion.
Resisting the Myth of Endless Productivity
Building on that shift, the quote confronts the “hustle” ideology that treats busyness as a badge of honor. When a culture normalizes overwork, individuals often internalize the idea that they must earn basic care through relentless effort. Hersey’s message resists that bargain by asserting that human beings deserve restoration regardless of performance. This resistance is practical, not abstract. Consider the everyday pressure to answer messages late at night or to treat weekends as catch-up time; choosing rest in those moments can function like a boundary that says, “My life is not an always-on service.” In that boundary, rest becomes a quiet but firm refusal.
The Body as a Site of Struggle
From there, Hersey’s line highlights the body itself as a place where social expectations land. Stress, sleep deprivation, and chronic fatigue are not merely individual failures of discipline; they are often predictable outcomes of environments that demand more than people can sustainably give. Rest, then, is a way of listening to the body’s signals and treating them as meaningful rather than inconvenient. This perspective also clarifies why rest can feel difficult even when time is available. If someone has learned—through work, school, or family demands—that their needs are secondary, choosing to rest may trigger guilt. Recognizing that guilt as conditioned rather than “true” can be part of the resistance.
Historical and Collective Dimensions of Rest
Next, the quote resonates with long traditions where marginalized communities have had their time and labor controlled, making rest unevenly accessible. In that context, claiming rest is not only self-care; it is a rejection of being treated as a resource to be extracted. Hersey’s broader work with The Nap Ministry frames rest as a cultural and spiritual practice that pushes back against grind culture and its roots. This collective dimension matters because it connects personal fatigue to structural realities. When rest is shared, protected, and normalized—through humane scheduling, parental leave, or community care—it becomes a communal stance that says well-being is not a luxury reserved for the privileged.
Rest as Boundary-Setting and Self-Respect
With that backdrop, rest also functions as a clear, actionable boundary. Saying “I’m done for today” or “I need sleep” is a form of self-respect that contests expectations of constant availability. Small practices—turning off notifications, refusing unpaid extra labor, taking lunch away from the desk—can embody Hersey’s idea in daily life. Importantly, this kind of resistance is not always loud. It can look like protecting a bedtime, declining one more obligation, or taking a true day off. Each choice reinforces the belief that a person’s value is not contingent on their exhaustion.
Toward Sustainable Living and Liberation
Finally, treating rest as resistance points toward a broader goal: sustainable, dignified living. Rest restores attention, emotional regulation, and creativity, which makes it easier to engage in relationships and civic life with steadiness rather than burnout. In that sense, rest is not withdrawal from the world but preparation to meet it on more humane terms. The quote ultimately invites a new metric of success: not how much one can endure, but how well one can live. When people rest without apology, they resist a culture that profits from depletion and move closer to a life structured around wholeness rather than constant strain.