Fear the Rest…No More!
There’s rather a simplicity to it, to life that is. Governed by our feelings more than everything else, we pretend to be creatures of high intellect and consciousness when, in reality, instinct guides us from birth to death.
And as we try, as hard as we can, to separate ourselves from the rest of all creatures living on this earth, we do forget that intellect makes but a fraction of all what makes us human.
All of our misery is the result of separating our feelings from our true essence. As if we are exempt from the rest because we can create, build, and think complex things without ever resting.
Alas, it would be a shame to blame ourselves for all of it. We were taught to fear—from centuries ago, since our ancestors were invaded—the only thing that can help our mind from racing: REST.
And Polina Onisko, the young artist from Kiev (Ukraine), shows us that ingrained fear burnt into our bodies like no one else does.
The trauma of survival and our price to pay.
Onisko is a young Ukrainian artist who works tirelessly, not only with beautiful and unique portraits but also with heartbreaking poetry. Among all her striking portraits, the painting ‘Mentally exhausted’ hit me right in the gut.
It told me the story of our ancestors hunting us still, with their hands resting on our shoulders, by making us hold the burden of their survival.
For many of us, rest feels impossible because survival has never allowed it. Our body holds the survival wisdom of pain, the endless fight to exist, to endure oppression, violence and suffering.
And it was this oppression that almost crushed my skull; hence an existential crisis hit right after staring at this haunting portrait.
***
These past few days, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong. I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t enjoy a simple moment with my daughter. She wanted me to stay with her and live in the moment. She wanted me to play with her.
But...restless energy went through my body. I had a million things to do, and I couldn’t enjoy the simple moment of existing with no purpose whatsoever but to simply play with her.
Rest felt like a betrayal of my survival. Rest felt unsafe, individualistic, and egoistical. I resisted all the attacks that were happening within my grey matter.
I stayed put.
And… I started observing my daughter as she concentrated fully on her only task and enjoyed the moment of rest on an otherwise hectic day.
That single moment, the squinting of her eyes, the curls falling idly on her forehead, and her complete presence in a made-up game made me question my whole existence.
Questions started pouring in. Why do I feel the need to do something? Why can’t I enjoy the moment? Why do I need to work and showcase this like a badge of honour? WHY CAN’T I REST FOR A SINGLE MOMENT?
My mind took me far, and I thought about what would be written on the black stone of my grave.
“Here lies Flogerta. A loving mother and adoring wife. She lived long and worked until the day she died. She was never idle. She was never lazy. She was the perfect bee worker of the Capitalism beehive. SHE CAN FINALLY REST.”
And I remembered that simplicity is what we’re after. That our core instinct is not to stay active all the time but rest instead. But we rarely, if ever, follow our guts. Instead, we use intellect fed by the endless efficiency request of the capitalistic machine.
But rest is what we need, damn it.
Rest, as a revolutionary act to an otherwise neverending, neversleeping, neverstopping existence. Rest, but not alone. Not with our next thing to buy. Not with the latest full-body massage or skincare routine or shopping therapy.
Rest, to stay put and enjoy the moment without the constant need to chase after the next best thing. Without the need to consume.
Can we do it though, when exhaustion is no longer physical but mental as well? Just like the painting of Polina Onisko. Can we escape the constant oppression to work, work, work, and never stop?
It seems like the system has already fractured our core instinct, the communal practice and our birthright to rest.
Yet, alone—even with my tiny three-year-old daughter—rest feels impossible.
Together, though, as a community, rest feels groundbreaking. A return to the origin when we used to sing, dance, cook, drink, and enjoy a festivity without feeling guilty. Without feeling as if we’re failing ourselves.
And while the painting depicts the exhaustion of it all, our core need to rest is essential. To this I say:
“May we rest like we deserve it. May we never fear idleness. May we, as humans, resist the system that cannot survive if we rest, if we stop and if we stare it in the face and say NO?
No, you will not steal my time. No, you will not break my will. No, you will not use my energy or my body as you see fit.
I declare that REST without guilt is my birthright. I will fear rest no more. I will fear you no more.
