And it seems the idea of doing nothing is catching on: you may have noticed the recent proliferation of titles about niksen, the Dutch term for “doing nothing, intentionally”. Olga Mecking’s Book Niksen clearly chimed with readers when published in the pandemic, and has been followed by a wealth of others, many in the Little Book of Hygge mould; it seems we love to take easily-digested lifestyle advice from northern European nations.
Even the word “rest” itself has become something of a buzz term. Published in 2022, Pause, Rest, Be by yoga teacher Octavia Raheem helps readers going through big changes or periods of uncertainty to slow down and turn inwards. Rather than using yoga to sweat your way to Instagrammable tight abs, she emphasises what the practice can tell us about self-knowledge, peace and stillness.
The Art of Rest by Claudia Hammond also has a practical bent: its chapters lay out the 10 most relaxing activities identified in global research, as well as arguing for the importance of intentional winding down – whether that be taking a bath or reading a book or spending time in nature. “Rest is not a luxury,” Hammond writes, but “a necessity”. Meanwhile Katherine May’s book Wintering has the subtitle The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, and forms a lyrical account of the author learning to accept the seasonality of life: that there are fallow periods when, rather than pushing on through, we need to step back and nurture ourselves. “Slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep… resting [is considered] a radical act now, but it is essential,” she writes.
Granted, some have merely advocated doing nothing as a means to an end: Alex Soojung-Kim Pang’s book Rest has the subtitle Why You Get More Done When You Work Less, positioning over-working as a productivity problem rather than an existential one. But perhaps it is notable that it was published in 2016, when the value of relaxing still had to be put forward in service of achieving more. Today, we’re more likely to advocate for time off for the benefit of our mental health, our spiritual wellbeing, a sense of work-life balance, and even just for fun.
Such books are not created equal: there’s a world, frankly, between Odell’s radical but often academic theorising – explicit in its anti-capitalism and liberal in its use of terms like “phenomenology” – and cosy, pastel-hued books encouraging you to take a bath or play with crayons. But this itself is striking: surely, something must really be afoot, to be straddling TikTok trends, lofty essay writing and easily-digestible self-help books.
Radical rest
So why has there been such a turnaround in the Western world, from hustle culture and leaning in and girlbossing, to quiet quitting and radical rest and slow living? The reason is simple: we’re all just so, so tired.
That’s Gannon’s theory, anyway: “Everyone’s reeeeally tired. We’re all struggling in some way to keep all the balls in the air,” she tells the . “We have a body and a mind that need to be looked after, and I don’t think we do [that], really.”
Technology is a big factor: it turns out, being able to answer emails on our phones didn’t really make us more efficient, it just made us work more. The omnipresence of social media encourages us to document every inch of our lives, mining them for content and continually working to bolster our own individual brand. The rise of tracking apps, too, turns leisure activities, exercise, and even the barest necessities of life like eating and sleeping into data, that can be compared and improved upon: you can track your sleep, log your breakfast, time your run, record what movie you watched, monitor your menstrual cycle.
