This post is a necessary counter to last week’s. For much of my life, all I knew was do, do, do, and the value of my life reduced to a measurable output. The harder I worked, the better. More productivity and output meant greater self-worth and respect. My circles, culture, and role models reinforced these beliefs. I learned discipline and resilience, how to work hard, and set myself up for a successful career, which, of course, are wonderful things. However, with nothing pulling me out of the scarcity mindset, I grew lost in an endless cycle characterized by ephemeral joys, unreachable expectations, and growing disconnection.

Herein lies the beauty of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps experience for me. For one year, I was taken out of my default environments and pressures, and was immersed in a radically different set of values and culture. Instead of abundance, simplicity. Not rising inequalities and power-seeking, but social justice. Not disconnection and feeling lost, but spirituality and community. Everyone did not aim for the same material goals. Rather, we all flourished in our own ways, letting our own unique spiritualities and identities shine. For one year, there were no expectations. I could just exist and joke around with the inmates, and there was no final grade. Our purpose as volunteers was simply to connect with the people we served, and grow in our understanding and embodiment of values that will hopefully shape and support us for the rest of our lives.

Prior to JVC, rest was simply a tool to achieve more output. Just like how you might drink a Monster before a late-night study session, rest was a necessary pause before I could resume working. If I felt myself slowing down, the thought was, “I unfortunately need to take a break.” I thought long about how to optimize my breaks–I found Youtube time-effective but addicting, walking time-consuming but especially rejuvenating, and Pomodoro techniques research-backed but overly rigid and structured. If I didn’t need a break, fantastic. Life was a game to be optimized, and rest was one piece of the story.

In the last few years, rest has taken a different purpose. Rather than a cog in the endless productivity spiral, rest means reconnection. It takes me out of what I’m doing, grounds me, and gives me perspective. It’s a tool for reframing my work in light of what I want out of life. No longer functionally equivalent to consuming an energy drink for additional hours of productivity, I drink my chamomile tea or walk around my neighborhood to fill my inner areas depleted by work. Rest is intentional time to remind myself that there is more I want out of life than optimizing a few metrics, and to practice the values and mindset I learned during JVC.

For me, rest is about staying in balance. There are many facets to human health that require attention, and straying far from our centers in these regards detrimentally affects our well-being. Researchers commonly classify rest into seven different categories^1,2:

1. Physical rest
2. Mental rest
3. Spiritual rest
4. Sensory rest
5. Creative rest
6. Emotional rest
7. Social rest

When we feel burned out and lack energy or motivation, one of these seven areas may be depleted. Humans fundamentally have limits. These limits aren’t a bad thing. When we push beyond our limits (while sometimes unavoidable), it’s important to question the reasoning behind the exertion and understand the eventual need for change. We were beautifully created, with all our abilities and inabilities. Burnout often indicates society or ourselves pushing us in a direction we weren’t meant to go.

Rest does not necessarily mean less action. For example, if you feel “aimless, disconnected, or cynical,”² spiritual rest may mean performing rejuvenating activities that restore meaning and a sense of purpose. Certain types of work can in fact feel restful. For a friend of mine, painting is their form of rest, which connects them with their creative side and allows for unburdened self-expression. For another, volunteering could be a form of rest, filling inner holes in need of nourishment. Also, sometimes what we think to be rest is actually draining–that vacation with too much packed in, endless scrolling or binge-watching, or conversations with negative friends. Some measure of intentionality with rest (i.e., a focus on what we want) is important. Rest brings us back to the all-important center, from which we can be ourselves, who we want to be, and flourish.

Listen to your body. It’ll tell you when something’s wrong, when you’ve moved far from your center. This listening builds awareness and self-love, and choosing this actively forms our identity and values. It builds confidence, and enables us to better work and serve others. We can’t control many aspects of our lives, but an understanding of rest and what our bodies need helps us resist harmful societal influences and grow in our overall wellness.

1. Abramson, Ashley. “Seven Types of Rest to Help Restore Your Body’s Energy.” American Psychological Association, 6 May 2025, http://www.apa.org/topics/mental-health/seven-rest-types. Accessed 15 Oct. 2026. ↩︎
2. Salamon, Maureen. “The 7 Types of Rest and Why We Need Them All.” Harvard Health Publishing, Harvard Medical School, 19 Dec. 2025, http://www.health.harvard.edu/preventive-care/the-7-types-of-rest-and-why-we-need-them-all. Accessed 15 Oct. 2026. ↩︎