I can already feel the air changing. The mornings are cooler. The days are getting busier.
I can imagine that in just a few weeks, as we get closer to Canadian Thanksgiving and Halloween, the pressure to achieve will start to weigh on us, if it hasn’t already. So before the season picks up speed, I want to pause and talk about something many of us find surprisingly hard: rest.
For many high achievers, rest is difficult because, somewhere along the way, rest began to feel undeserved. Like something we have to earn.
I know this one well. Even though I know better, I still catch myself saying, “You can’t go play pickleball until you’ve finished checking off your to-do list,” and this is after I’ve been at my computer all day long.
You may recognize the pattern. You finally have an open evening, a free weekend, or a vacation day. Yet instead of feeling relief, you feel restless. You notice the unfinished tasks. You think about the email you should answer, the project you could get ahead on, the household jobs waiting for you, or the many ways you could be using this time better.
So you keep going.
From the outside, this can look like discipline, ambition, or a strong work ethic. And sometimes it is. There is nothing wrong with caring deeply about your work, chasing a meaningful goal, or wanting to do something well.
But there is a difference between striving because you want something and striving because you feel you have something to prove.
When achievement becomes tied to our sense of worth, rest can feel dangerous. If I slow down, will I fall behind? If I am not productive, am I lazy? If I disappoint someone, will I still be valued? If I am not accomplishing, who am I?
These questions do not usually begin in adulthood.
Many of us picked up early messages about who we needed to be in order to be accepted, admired, safe, or loved. Nobody may have said them out loud. They came through what was praised, expected, criticized, or modelled around us.
Work before play. Be responsible. Do not waste time. Make us proud. Do more. Be better.
For some people, those messages create a powerful drive. They help us achieve, contribute, lead, and build lives others admire. They can also make it hard for us to know when enough is enough. To know when to stop.
The problem is not ambition. The problem is asking ambition to do something it can never do: prove that we are enough.
I see this in Cindy who is bright, focused, and ambitious. She’s also exhausted trying to do it all. She is making a name for herself at work but it often requires her to work in the middle of the night, after her daughter has gone to bed. She has chronic insomnia, her temper is short when she gets home, and she is feeling the weight of the chronic stress everywhere she goes. When she looks around, everything and everyone seems to be needing something from her.To add to this, her perfectionism shows up in insisting that beds be made and the kitchen cleaned before anyone can leave home.
Achievement may bring a moment of relief or pride. But when our worth depends on the next accomplishment, the goalposts keep moving. There is always another task, promotion, credential, client, or expectation waiting just ahead.
And rest starts to feel like a luxury we have to earn, instead of a human need that keeps us well.
This affects how we lead, too. A leader who cannot rest may unintentionally teach their team that burning out is the price of commitment. People learn what leaders reward and what they allow. When being available all the time becomes the unspoken rule, people start to believe their value depends on never stopping.
It shows up at home as well. The people we live with notice when we are in the room but not really there, still working in our heads. Children learn that love and worth go to the ones who keep going.
A more useful question is not, “How can I get better at resting?”
It is: “What do I believe rest says about me?”
Maybe it says you are not doing enough. Maybe it says you are letting people down. Maybe it says you are no longer the reliable one, the strong one, the high performer, or the person who holds everything together.
Noticing the belief is a beginning. You do not have to give up your ambition. You do not have to stop caring or lower your standards.
But you may need to stop using your productivity as proof of your worth.
Rest is not a reward for finally becoming worthy. You were worthy before you completed the list.
What would change if you treated rest not as something to earn, but as part of the life you are trying to build?