Chapter 14: When Tired, Rest

A Day Off That Was Not

Ngozi is thirty-six and works long shifts as a paramedic. She also has two children and an elderly father who lives nearby. Her days off are rare, and she always looks forward to them. She tells herself that on her next day off, she will finally rest.

When the day comes, she wakes early out of habit. She thinks she might lie in bed for a while, but her mind starts listing things that need doing: the washing, a form for school, a present for a friend's birthday, her father's shopping. She gets up. She does the washing, fills in the form, goes to the shops, visits her father, cooks a large meal to freeze for the week and cleans the bathroom. In the afternoon, she sits down on the sofa, intending to rest, and picks up her phone. An hour later, she has read news, answered messages and watched several short videos, and she feels more tired than before.

In the evening, she lies in bed exhausted, and yet sleep does not come easily. Her mind replays the day and plans the next shift. She thinks, with some frustration, "I had a whole day off, and I did not rest at all." She is right. She was busy from morning to night, and even the moments that looked like rest, sitting on the sofa with her phone, were not really restful.

Many people find, like Ngozi, that rest is surprisingly hard. We are tired, but we do not stop. When we do stop, we fill the space with screens, plans or worries. Even sleep can be disturbed by a busy mind. Zen, with its long tradition of attention to the simplest acts of life, has something to say about rest. This chapter explores it.

A Busy Mind Forgets How to Rest

Rest seems as if it should be easy. All we need to do is stop. And yet, for a busy mind, stopping can be one of the hardest things of all.

One reason is that many of us have learned to value ourselves by what we do. Being busy feels important, responsible and worthy. Resting can feel lazy or even selfish, especially when others need us or when there is so much to do. So we keep going, even when our bodies and minds are asking us to stop.

Another reason is that the busy mind does not switch off just because the body stops. We may sit down, but our thoughts keep running, planning and worrying. This kind of resting body with a racing mind is not real rest. It is like a car parked with its engine still running.

A third reason is that many of the things we do to rest are not actually restful. Scrolling through a phone, watching an endless stream of short videos or reading the news may feel like a break, but they keep feeding the mind with new information, emotions and demands. Many people finish an hour of this kind of "rest" feeling more tired and scattered than before.

Real rest, in the Zen sense, involves both the body and the mind coming to stillness. It is not the same as sleep, though sleep is part of it. It is not the same as entertainment, though entertainment can be enjoyable. It is a state of being present without being busy, a state that zazen trains us in, and that we can bring into the rest of our lives.

"When Tired, Sleep"

In the ninth chapter, we met the Chan teacher Dazhu Huihai and his famous answer to the question of how he practised: "When I am hungry, I eat. When I am tired, I sleep." We looked then at the first half of his answer, about eating. Now we can look at the second half.

Remember how the story continues. The visitor objects that everyone eats and sleeps, so how can this be a special practice? Dazhu explains that most people, when they sleep, are not willing simply to sleep. They turn over a thousand different matters. Their bodies lie down, but their minds keep working.

This describes Ngozi perfectly, and many of us. We lie down to sleep, and then we plan, worry, replay and imagine. Our bodies are in bed, but our minds are still at work, at the shops, in conversations, in the future. Dazhu's practice is simply to sleep when he sleeps, to let the mind rest with the body.

There is something deeply kind in this teaching. It does not ask us to do anything heroic. It does not ask us to meditate for hours or to give up sleep for practice. It says: when you are tired, rest. Let rest be rest. Listen to the body's need, and meet it completely.

It is worth noticing that Dazhu's answer begins with "when tired". He does not say "sleep whenever you like" or "sleep as much as possible". He responds to the body's real state. When hungry, eat. When tired, sleep. This is a practice of listening, as we explored in the last chapter: listening to what the body actually needs, and responding to it simply and fully.

Rest Is Not Another Task

In recent years, many people have started to treat rest as another thing to optimize. They track their sleep with devices, follow complicated routines and worry about whether they are resting "correctly". There is nothing wrong with caring about sleep and rest. But when rest becomes another task to perform well, it can become another source of pressure.

Zen offers a gentler approach. Rest is not a task to be completed or a goal to be achieved. It is simply a state of being that we allow. When we try too hard to rest, as when we try too hard to fall asleep, we often make it harder. Rest comes more easily when we stop trying to make it happen and simply let ourselves stop.

This connects with the image of the muddy water from the second chapter. If we keep stirring the water to make it clear, it stays cloudy. If we leave it alone, it settles. Rest is similar. If we keep working at resting, the mind stays busy. If we simply stop, and let things be, the mind can begin to settle on its own.

This does not mean that good habits around rest are useless. Regular sleep times, a quiet bedroom and a break from screens before bed can all help, and many public health guides recommend such habits. But these habits work best when they are held lightly, as supports rather than as rules that we must follow perfectly.

It can also help to notice the difference between tiredness of the body and tiredness of the mind. After physical work, the body may be tired while the mind is calm, and sleep often comes easily. After a day of meetings, screens and worry, the mind may be exhausted while the body has hardly moved, and sleep can be restless. For mental tiredness, gentle movement, such as a slow walk, can sometimes be more restful than lying down. For physical tiredness, stillness may be best. Listening to which kind of tiredness you feel helps you choose the right kind of rest.

Doing Nothing on Purpose

One of the most valuable kinds of rest is something that many people find very difficult: doing nothing on purpose. Not sleeping, not watching, not reading, not planning. Just sitting, or lying, or looking out of a window, with nothing to do.

In a sense, zazen is a form of doing nothing on purpose. We sit, we breathe, we are present, and we do not try to achieve anything. Many people who practise zazen find that it is restful in a way that is different from sleep, a kind of awake rest that refreshes the mind.

Outside of formal sitting, doing nothing can take many forms. Sitting on a park bench and watching the trees move. Lying on the grass and looking at the clouds. Sitting by a window with a cup of tea, not reading, not scrolling, just looking. Listening to rain on the roof. These moments may look like wasted time to a busy mind. But they can be some of the most restorative moments in a day.

Many people feel guilty about doing nothing. They feel they should be productive. But a mind that never stops is like a field that is never left to rest. Farmers in many places have long known that fields need time to recover between crops. Our minds may need something similar: periods of quiet in which nothing is demanded of them.

If doing nothing feels uncomfortable at first, start small. Five minutes of sitting by a window, with no phone and no task, is enough. Notice the urge to get up and do something, and let it pass, as we practised with urges in zazen. Over time, many people find that these small periods of doing nothing become precious.

Bringing Practice to Bed

For many people, the hardest time to rest is at night, when they lie down and the busy mind starts up. The practices in this book can help here too, as long as they are used gently.

One simple practice is to bring attention to the body lying in bed. Feel the weight of the body sinking into the mattress. Feel the contact of the head on the pillow, the back on the sheet, the legs and feet. Let each part of the body be heavy and supported. You might move slowly through the body, from the feet up to the head, noticing each part and letting it soften.

Another is to count the breaths, as in the second chapter. Count each out-breath from one to ten, and start again whenever you lose count. If thoughts come, notice them and return to the counting. This is the practice that helped Esther, the woman in the second chapter, through her sleepless nights.

It is important not to use these practices as a way of forcing sleep. If you lie there thinking, "I must fall asleep now, I am doing the practice, why am I not asleep?", the pressure will keep you awake. Instead, practise simply for the sake of resting. If sleep comes, wonderful. If it does not, you are still resting your body and mind, which is valuable in itself.

Many sleep guides also suggest that, if you cannot sleep for a long time, it can help to get up, go to another room and do something calm in dim light, such as sitting quietly or reading a gentle book, and return to bed when you feel sleepy. Lying in bed for hours struggling to sleep can teach the mind to associate the bed with wakefulness. A short, quiet sitting in a chair can sometimes help the mind settle enough for sleep to return.

Rest During the Day

Rest is not only for the end of the day. Small periods of rest during the day can make a great difference to how we feel.

Many people work for hours without a real break, eating at their desks and moving straight from one task to the next. But short pauses, even a few minutes long, can help the mind and body recover. A pause might be as simple as standing up, stretching, looking out of a window, taking three breaths or walking slowly to get a glass of water.

In Zen monasteries, the day has a rhythm: periods of sitting, periods of walking, periods of work, meals and rest. Activity and stillness alternate. This rhythm helps people sustain long days of practice without exhaustion. In our own lives, we can borrow this idea, building small pauses into our days so that busy periods are followed by moments of stillness.

Looking into the distance is a particularly restful pause for people who spend much of the day looking at screens or close work. Looking out of a window at something far away, such as trees, sky or distant buildings, for a minute or two, can rest the eyes and often the mind as well.

A lunch break, taken away from work and eaten with attention as in the ninth chapter, is another powerful form of daily rest. Many people skip it or eat while working. Reclaiming even part of it as a real break can change how the afternoon feels.

Some people also find it helpful to have one day, or part of a day, each week that is different from the others: a time with fewer tasks, less screen time and more space for walks, conversation, play or simply quiet. Many traditions around the world have long kept such a day of rest. You do not need to follow any particular tradition to benefit from the idea. Even a few hours a week that are protected from work and busyness can give the mind a chance to recover.

When Rest Is Hard to Find

It would be unfair to write about rest without acknowledging that, for many people, rest is genuinely hard to find. People who work long hours or several jobs, people who care for children, sick relatives or elderly parents, people who work night shifts and people living in noisy or crowded conditions may have very little time or space to rest.

For these people, the advice to "rest more" can feel frustrating or even insulting. Rest is not simply a matter of choice when the demands of life are overwhelming. If this describes your situation, please know that your tiredness is real and understandable, and that it is not a personal failing.

Even so, small moments of rest can sometimes be found: a few breaths before getting out of bed, a minute of stillness in a bathroom, a slow cup of tea, a few minutes of doing nothing while a child naps. These moments do not solve the larger problem, but they can offer a little relief. And it is also important, where possible, to ask for help, to share the load with others and to seek support from community or public services.

If you have ongoing problems with sleep, such as difficulty falling asleep, waking often or feeling exhausted despite sleeping, or if you feel unusually tired for a long time, please talk with a doctor. Persistent sleep problems and fatigue can have many causes, some of which need medical attention. The practices in this book can support rest alongside that care.

Three Lives and Their Rest

Joaquín is seventy and recently retired after many years as a factory supervisor. He thought retirement would be restful, but he finds himself constantly busy: fixing things around the house, helping his children, volunteering. When he sits down, he feels guilty and gets up again. His wife suggests that he try sitting in the garden each afternoon for fifteen minutes, without doing anything. At first, Joaquín finds it almost unbearable. His mind lists jobs and his body wants to move. But he stays. After a few weeks, he begins to look forward to his garden time. He notices birds, the movement of the light and the smell of the soil. He says it is the first time in his life he has learned to rest without feeling he has to earn it.

Hye-jin is twenty-four and works for a small company with long hours and constant messages. She checks her phone until the moment she falls asleep and again as soon as she wakes. She sleeps badly and feels tired all the time. She decides to try a simple change: her phone charges in the kitchen overnight, and she does not look at it for the first half hour after waking or the last half hour before bed. In the evening, she spends those thirty minutes reading a book or simply sitting quietly. In the morning, she drinks tea by the window. Within a few weeks, she notices that she falls asleep more easily and feels less scattered in the morning.

Emre is forty-five and works night shifts in a large bakery. Sleeping during the day is hard, with noise from the street and light around the curtains. He has tried many things. One that helps is a short lying-down practice before sleep: he lies on his bed, feels the weight of his body and slowly moves his attention from his feet to his head, letting each part relax, while counting his breaths. He does not always fall asleep quickly, but he finds that he rests more deeply even when awake, and he wakes less often. He also talks to his doctor, who gives him some advice suited to night workers.

Ngozi, from the beginning of this chapter, decides that on her next day off she will set aside one hour for real rest. She tells her family and asks her sister to visit their father that afternoon. For that hour, she sits in her garden with her phone inside the house. She does nothing. At first she feels restless and guilty. Then, slowly, she begins to feel her body relax. She notices how tired she really is. After the hour, she feels more refreshed than she has felt in months. She realizes that rest, like any practice, needs space to happen.

Practical Steps

First, notice your tiredness. Several times a day, pause and ask, "How tired am I, really?" Listen honestly to the answer.

Second, when tired, rest. When you notice tiredness, respond to it if you can, with a pause, a short rest or an earlier night. Let rest be rest, without filling it with screens or plans.

Third, do nothing on purpose. Each day, set aside a few minutes to do nothing: sit by a window, look at the sky, listen to the rain. Notice the urge to get busy, and let it pass.

Fourth, build pauses into your day. Take short breaks between tasks: stand up, stretch, breathe, look into the distance. Let busy periods be followed by moments of stillness.

Fifth, protect the edges of sleep. Keep screens away for a while before sleep and after waking. Use that time for quiet, gentle activities.

Sixth, practise gently in bed. If your mind is busy at night, feel your body lying down and count your breaths, without trying to force sleep.

A Short Practice: Lying Down and Letting Go

This practice takes about ten to fifteen minutes. You can do it in bed before sleep, or lying on a mat or carpet during the day.

Lie on your back with your arms by your sides, palms facing up or down, whichever is comfortable. If lying flat is uncomfortable, put a pillow under your knees or lie on your side. Close your eyes gently.

Take a few slow breaths. Feel the weight of your body resting on the bed or the floor. Let the surface beneath you hold you completely. You do not need to hold yourself up.

Now bring your attention to your feet. Notice any sensations there: warmth, coolness, tingling, pressure. Breathe gently and imagine your feet becoming heavy and soft. Then move your attention slowly up through your body: your lower legs, your knees, your thighs, your hips, your belly, your chest, your back, your hands, your arms, your shoulders, your neck, your face and the top of your head. At each part, pause for a few breaths, notice what is there and let it soften.

When your mind wanders, as it will, notice it and gently return to the part of the body where you left off. There is no need to scold yourself. If you lose track completely, simply begin again with the breath.

When you have moved through the whole body, rest for a few minutes with your attention on the whole body breathing. Feel the body as one whole, lying still, breathing by itself. If you are in bed and sleep comes, let it come. If you are practising during the day, take a few deeper breaths at the end, move your fingers and toes, stretch and sit up slowly.

Questions People Often Ask

"I feel guilty when I rest. How can I change this?" Many people feel this way. It can help to remember that rest is not a reward for working hard enough. It is a basic need, like food and water. A rested person is often more patient, more creative and better able to care for others. You might start with very small periods of rest and notice how they affect you and the people around you. Over time, the guilt often eases.

"Is a nap during the day a good idea?" For many people, a short rest during the day can be refreshing. Some people find that a long nap in the afternoon makes it harder to sleep at night. Notice what works for your own body. If you have ongoing sleep difficulties, talk with a doctor about whether daytime naps are helpful for you.

"Can meditation replace sleep?" No. Meditation can be restful, and many people find it refreshing, but it is not a substitute for sleep. The body and brain need sleep for many important processes. The practices in this chapter are meant to support rest and sleep, not to replace them.

Chapter Summary

A busy mind often forgets how to rest. We value ourselves by what we do, our minds keep running when our bodies stop and many things we do to rest, such as scrolling, are not really restful. In the Transmission of the Lamp, Dazhu Huihai explains that most people, when they sleep, are not willing simply to sleep, but turn over a thousand matters. His practice is simple: when tired, sleep.

Rest is not another task to optimize, but a state we allow. Doing nothing on purpose, bringing gentle practice to bed without forcing sleep, getting up for a quiet sitting if sleep will not come and building small pauses into the day can all help. For people with heavy responsibilities, rest is genuinely hard to find, and tiredness is not a personal failing. Persistent sleep problems or fatigue deserve a doctor's attention.

In the final chapter, we bring together everything in this book and look at the Zen teaching that ordinary life itself is the practice.