Sabbatical Lesson #1: Learn to Rest

“If you are tired, learn to rest, not quit.” ~ Banksy

When my yoga teacher read that quote during a Yin Yoga class, my shoulders tensed up.

I’d quit my job. I was bone-deep tired. I've felt exhausted many times in my life: after giving birth to each of my children, while caring for my mother who was ill for a long time, or working 16-hour days with an infant who woke up at 1AM. But this time, I was sick and tired. Leaving my job was the right thing to do because I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d live if I didn’t take care of my health. For three years, I had major digestive problems and many doctors couldn’t pinpoint the issue. They suggested medications, diets, and lifestyle changes, but nothing worked. Surgery was the last choice, but they seemed ambivalent that removing my gallbladder would solve the problem.

My stomach pains interfered with sleep which affected my mood and energy levels which affected my exercise (inconsistent) and diet (not great). I’d like to think it didn’t affect my performance at work, but my ability to tolerate stress, pressure, and constant change, and my willingness to be flexible and open to challenges also declined.

All of this was happening in the context of a lot of stressors happening in my personal life, and I couldn’t take it anymore. So I quit. At first, I felt exhilarated and guilty. I had a well-paying job with great colleagues and an amazing manager with a very nice title at a prestigious company with wonderful benefits and perks. Who quits their job in this economy?

I didn’t tell many people I’d left my job because I didn’t want to answer the next question: “What are you going to do now?” I had no energy to job search and had little appetite for the kind of work I’d done for years. Instead, I traveled. A lot. I was trying to escape stress, not recover from it. I was relaxing, but not deeply resting. The specter of stress lingered in my head and body for months, until I practiced deep rest.

“Deep rest is a psychological and physiological state during which our bodies can recover on a cellular level. In deep rest, formerly stressed cells restore themselves by performing the maintenance needed to keep such a complex machine, the human body, in working order.  Certain practices – those that cultivate inner well-being and quiet our minds – can open the door to this fully restorative state.” (Parry, 2024)

---

Fifteen years ago, when I was in graduate school, I started taking yoga classes at a local studio. I liked yoga for stretching and flexibility, but it wasn’t my “practice,” it was exercise. When I started reading more about mindfulness and meditation, I returned not just for yoga’s physical benefits, but as a way to quiet my mind.

Pretty soon, I could pick out the regular attendees, in particular a group of women who sit at the front corner of the studio. They stand out because they greet each other with hugs and kisses, they ask each other about their children, or their new projects at work. Because they practice yoga everyday, they have ropey arms, can do handstands, balance their entire bodies with one arm, and twist themselves like pretzels. I don’t have to eavesdrop because they speak loudly, but I learned they have adult children, they are academics and medical doctors, and they’re good friends who celebrate the holidays together.

I have very few older women relatives who aged healthfully. Although my mother is well enough to hike Ingwan Mountain she has some health issues that need attention. Both of my grandmothers passed away when I was young, and this past summer, my favorite aunt died of pancreatic cancer. Just six months prior to her death, she’d hiked Mont Blanc and the Camino de Santiago. In her 30’s she began studying Korean calligraphy as a way to relieve stress and eventually became an artist, teacher, and studio owner. She wrote several books on calligraphy and traveled all over the country to teach the beauty of seoye (서예). When I visited Korea, we’d take the train from Seoul to Wonju, our family’s hometown, or vacation together on Jeju Island. I loved and admired my aunt and wanted to grow older like her. She had no desire to retire because she was doing what she loved.

My aunt and the women at the yoga studio built healthy habits, created community, and enjoyed daily practices that promoted deep rest.

(Walking down Seongsan Ichilbong, a tuff cone volcano on Jeju Island, with my aunt.)

Have you ever sat down and imagined what you’d be physically and mentally capable of doing in your 70’s or 80’s? I hadn’t, but my aunt and the yoga women inspired a new vision: Ten years from now, I want to be able to do a handstand and the flying crow pose. Twenty years from now, I want to be able to hike the Alps and Mt. Fuji. Thirty years from now, I want to squat on the floor and play with my grandchildren. I want to do purposeful, meaningful work as long as I can.

—------------------------

When we are acutely stressed, it takes time to descend from a heightened state. Vacations, getaways, or retreats can help bring us down to a rested state, but the nice vacation vibes wear off after a couple of weeks. Since I did not have regular, consistent practices that promoted deep rest, my stress level stacked up, brick-by-brick, until I hit a wall in a few months, and needed another vacation.

Deep rest is affordable, accessible, and sustainable. Your grandparents may be practicing them. Yoga, hiking, forest “bathing”, or tai chi; prayer or spiritual readings; creative outlets like playing music, painting, baking, or knitting; communal experiences like drum circles, singing, or chanting–they all work. Where we practice (physical safety) and whom we’re with (social safety) also matter. We need social cues that the people around us are safe, compassionate, and understand us without explanation.

It doesn’t surprise me that the science of deep rest was based on Nobel Prize-winning scientific research by women, Dr. Elizabeth Blackburn and Dr. Elissa Epel.

Here are things you can do today to get deep rest:

1. Slow your breathing, and try 15-30 minutes of a contemplative practice. Studies show that yoga and mindfulness practiced over 4 weeks or 30 mins of Qi gong practiced over 12 weeks lowered resting heart rates.

2. Get at least 7 hours of sleep. Aside from contemplative practices, deep slow wave sleep is essential for cellular repair and neuroplasticity.

3. Spend time in nature. Walking amongst trees can lower anxiety, lower blood pressure, and increase our immunity. If you’re not near a forest, get outside. Humans need sunlight and even the brightest lamps don’t compare to the amount of lumens you get even on a cloudy day.

4. Build community. It’s not enough to do all of these things alone. We need to be surrounded by people who care about us, who affirm healthy choices, and who are compassionate towards our needs.

I used to spend a lot of money on leisure activities like weekend trips and “self-care” products. Sometimes they’re necessary to provide immediate relief, but sustained, consistent, and long-term habits that promote deep rest help us live longer, healthier, and happier.

---

Studies for Further Reading:

Brinkman JE, Reddy V, Sharma S. Physiology of Sleep. [Updated 2023 Apr 3]. In: StatPearls [Internet]. Treasure Island (FL): StatPearls Publishing; 2025 Jan-. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK482512/

Crosswell, A. D., Mayer, S. E., Whitehurst, L. N., Picard, M., Zebarjadian, S., & Epel, E. S. (2024). Deep rest: An integrative model of how contemplative practices combat stress and enhance the body’s restorative capacity.Psychological Review, 131(1), 247–270. https://doi.org/10.1037/rev0000453

Picard, M., Prather, A. A., Puterman, E., Cuillerier, A., Coccia, M., Aschbacher, K., Burelle, Y., & Epel, E. S. (2018). A mitochondrial health index sensitive to mood and caregiving stress. Biological Psychiatry, 84(1), 9–17. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biopsych.2018.01.012