Why resting feels so hard (and what’s really driving our need to be productive)
- Jo Green

- Dec 19, 2025
- 4 min read
It’s interesting what starts to surface as the year comes to a close. In conversations, in client sessions, and in my own reflections, the same theme keeps appearing again and again. People are exhausted. Not just physically tired, but emotionally worn down. Many feel like they’ve been running for a long time and don’t quite know how to stop, even when they desperately want to.
What I keep noticing is that it’s not just the tiredness that’s the issue. It’s how uncomfortable rest can feel. Even when there’s finally space to slow down, many people find they can’t actually relax. There’s a restlessness underneath, a subtle sense of guilt, or a background feeling that they should be doing something more useful with their time.
This isn’t accidental. We live in a culture that quietly rewards productivity and achievement. From a young age, many of us are rewarded for achieving. For getting good grades, meeting expectations, doing well, and producing results. When we don’t, we’re often criticised, corrected, or encouraged to try harder. Over time, achievement becomes linked with approval and value, while rest, listening to our bodies, or slowing down are rarely celebrated in the same way. Rest quietly becomes something you earn, once everything else is done.
The trouble is, everything is never really done. There’s always more that could be achieved, improved, ticked off, or worked towards. So the internal message becomes: keep going, don’t stop yet.
Over time, this creates a way of living where pushing becomes normal. We override tiredness, postpone rest, and tell ourselves we’ll slow down later. And when we finally do stop, the nervous system doesn’t necessarily follow. Thoughts keep spinning. The body stays alert. Rest doesn’t feel restorative.
I see this pattern so often in my work, and I notice it in myself too. Even when I consciously choose to rest, I’m often aware of a part of me that feels uncomfortable about it. A part that thinks I shouldn’t be resting, that I should be working, achieving, or at the very least doing something that looks productive. That part doesn’t shout, but it’s there in the background, making rest feel conditional rather than nourishing.
A couple of weekends ago, something really highlighted this for me. My husband was out all day, and it was a Saturday. Those two things combined created a very different internal experience. Because it was the weekend, I felt like I was “allowed” to rest. And because he wasn’t home, I didn’t need to consider what he might want to do or feel pulled to be available. I spent the day reading, doing a jigsaw, pottering around, and it felt genuinely blissful. Deeply restful in a way that surprised me.
What stood out afterwards was how much permission mattered. The external circumstances hadn’t changed that much, and yet internally there was far less tension around resting. It made visible how many invisible rules we carry about when it’s acceptable to slow down, and how easily those rules shape our behaviour without us realising.
This is what I mean when I talk about productivity as an unconscious programme. Most people don’t actively choose to live this way. It’s not a deliberate decision to tie worth to output or to feel uneasy when resting. These beliefs are learned early, reinforced over time, and rarely questioned. They show up as thoughts, emotions and behaviours that feel automatic, so familiar that we assume they’re just part of who we are.
Living like this for long enough often leads to burnout. Emotional burnout, mental burnout, physical burnout. Not because people are incapable or doing something wrong, but because the system they’re operating within doesn’t allow for genuine rest or regulation.
This is also why telling someone who’s exhausted to “just rest” rarely helps. The issue usually isn’t a lack of rest, it’s what rest brings up internally. For many people, slowing down triggers anxiety, guilt or unease. Until we get curious about that, rest will continue to feel shallow or short-lived.
Curiosity, in this context, isn’t about self-improvement or fixing yourself. It’s about understanding. Before trying to rest more, slow down, or do things differently, it can be helpful to gently explore questions like: what does being productive give me? What feels threatening about stopping? What do I believe rest says about me? Curiosity gives us awareness, and without awareness we can’t change anything.
The energy behind our actions matters too. A lot of what looks like discipline on the surface is actually fear-driven action underneath. Fear of falling behind. Fear of not being enough. Fear of what might surface if we stop. Self-led action feels different. It includes rest because it understands the cost of constant pushing. It responds to the body rather than overriding it, and it values sustainability over proving something.
From the outside, both can look productive. On the inside, they feel very different.
This is why, around this time of year, setting New Year’s resolutions can feel so frustrating. Without understanding the unconscious patterns driving our behaviour, trying to create change can feel like pushing a giant boulder up Mount Cook. You might move it for a moment, but gravity always wins. Not because you didn’t try hard enough, but because the deeper drivers were never brought into awareness.
A gentle invitation to explore
If this resonates, I invite you to spend some time gently noticing your own relationship with productivity and rest. No judgement, just notice.
Notice what shows up when you slow down or stop.
The thoughts.
The feelings.
The urge to do something “useful”.
When you notice it, get curious.
Ask the part of you that feels uncomfortable with resting…
“What are you worried might happen if I truly slowed down?”
See what comes up.
Then gently explore what that part might need in order to feel safer with rest.
If you’d like some support with what you discover, The Feeling Revolution is a great place to start. It’s designed to help you notice and understand your emotions and inner patterns, so change can come from awareness rather than force. I’m running programmes on NZ time and UK time in the New Year. You can find out more here.








