What I’ve learned about rest from my podcast

I was part of The Poetry Detective’s Overwintering episode on BBC Radio 4 • I’m appearing in Margate at the Turner gallery’s first Winter Wellness festival on 30th January • I’ll be taking part in the Ceylon Literary Festival, 13th-15th February, in conversation with Helen Macdonald, and with Sukanya Wignaraja • Our next Book Club read will be The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey.

While I was developing my new podcast (find it here if you haven’t already), I worried that it would feel too soft for this point in our history. Asking guests to imagine their ideal retreat could easily feel irrelevant as the world around us becomes more violent and chaotic.

We tend to see rest as a luxury, something that we might be allowed in the good times, if we’ve worked hard enough. But to me, it’s a serious issue: a matter of restoring our health, protecting our psyche, nurturing the compassion and connection that is essential for our survival. In moments like this - when our care is pulled in a hundred different directions at once - it is vital that we learn to protect our energies.

As soon as I sat down with my first guest, I realised I needn’t have worried. Everyone so far has talked about the complexity of rest, the concerns that get in the way, and the challenges of moving from incessant busyness to stillness and calm. This, in turn, has deepened my own understanding of what rest means to us, and why it’s so vital.

As we approach our 10th episode, I want to share my five most important insights so far.

1. Rest is an anxious space

I have yet to speak to a single person for whom the idea of rest - even the imaginary kind - is uncomplicated. We feel guilty for needing it in the first place, and we’re extremely conscious of the disparity in access to rest, as well as the urgent work that needs to be done in the world. Cariad Lloyd spontaneously provided the most perfect introduction to these ideas in our first episode.

We’re also wary of our ability to leave work behind. We know ourselves too well: our minds never stop whirring, and in many ways our identities derive from what we do. Sam Baker expressed this beautifully: stopping can feel like a pretty uncomfortable process.

2. It’s not about sitting still

Yes, we all like and need the occasional sit-down, but most of us prefer to rest in motion. Laura Pashby and Oliver Burkeman dreamed of blustery walks in rugged landscapes, and every single guest so far has wanted to shift their attention toward doing something they loved (even if that’s simply reading). Rest is about a change in action, a chance to use our legs and our hands, and to sink our minds into something new.

Andy J Pizza exemplifies the art of restless rest. His lively, ADHD brain craves stimulation, and so he cooked up the ideal retreat venue for people who hate sitting still: Howl’s Moving Castle.

3. We’re over performative rest

In the media, rest is so often denoted by a bland stock image of a woman on a spa day, looking instantly relaxed, and of course, utterly put-together and elegant. Speaking to my guests, I realised that I’m not the only one who’s completely over this thin imitation of actual retreat. Performative rest doesn’t feel real to us anymore. We know we need more.

We actually dream of something a little more messy. Melissa Hemsley talked about the conflict she feels between the dream of solitude and the anxiety of being alone: in real life, we get spooked in remote cottages, however much we idealise them. Oliver Burkeman felt, on balance, that his life was already pretty good and he didn’t want to stray too far. Most people I spoke to just wanted to let it all hang out.

Rest is deeply personal, and we know how difficult it can be to attain it. We can no longer be sold a glossy ideal.

4. Rest is an archive

Despite the escapism many of us want, rest is profoundly connected to home. As my interviews stacked up, I began to see that we crave a return to a moment of perfect comfort, rather than something completely new.

This struck me most in Kaitlin Curtice’s episode, where she explored a mental image of great simplicity and stillness, with activities that were familiar and soothing. The yearning is to reconnect with something direct and easy, perhaps a time before life got so busy and responsibility-laden.

A sense of exile came up in many of the interviews. It is expressed most directly in the forthcoming Ece Temelkuran episode (out tomorrow!), in which she conjures an immersive, sensory landscape that reminds her of her Turkish home, to which she can’t currently return without risking political detention. But I was struck by the same feeling in my conversation with Martha Beck and Rowan Mangan. Martha dreamed of an island where people made sense; Rowan dreamed of slipping between the cracks in this world, to find a place that felt more like home.

Rest is a way of preserving an idea of home, either a physical place that feels lost to us, or a place we’ve forever longed for.

5. Whimsy matters

Through all the interviews, I’ve loved the sense of whimsy that so often arises. I’ve been taken to mossy treehouses, roaming steampunk castles, imaginary otherworlds, sea-battered lighthouses and cottages full of tame woodland animals. I’ve watched guests sink into their own dreamworlds, and seen them emerge energised and refreshed.

Subscribe now

It strikes me now that whimsy is a vital tool for resisting the brutality and shallowness of modern life. It is not a childish thing, but a rich and mature resource, a means of everyday retreat and a way of nurturing all that is good in the real world. For all their fantastical details, my guests’ imaginary worlds were arks in which they kept their visions of hope, justice and gentleness.

They also pointed to a way in which we can all take a rest, any time.

You can listen to The Clearing for free in your favourite podcast app (find it here); or Paid subscribers to this newsletter get an ad-free version each week. You can also watch with subtitles on YouTube.