My Season of Rest: Inspired by The Magnolia Journal

For Christmas, one of the presents Aaron got me was a subscription to Joanna Gaines’ quarterly magazine, The Magnolia Journal. I feel very old and boring for being excited it, but this is 32. Bring it on.

The theme for the winter edition is “rest,” and I kind of feel like the entire thing is basically yoga in magazine form. Lots of calming essays with metaphors about how the neutral, bare elements in nature during winter reflect how we can strip down our own lives to the essentials. To be cozy and restful and in tune with the smell of cinnamon. Or something.

The River Metaphor That Stopped Me in My Tracks

Now, I’m not a yoga woo-woo type person. I’d love to be, but I’m more of a heavy-breathing-listen-to-early-2000s-pop-while-on-the-elliptical type person. That said, I’ve actually loved reading this journal, and one section in particular stood out to me: a short little blurb about how when a river freezes over, it looks like it’s resting. It’s no longer moving. However, beneath the surface, the current still flows, keeping the river fresh and capable of sustaining life.

Why I’m Not Hustling Right Now — And I’m Okay With That

In case you haven’t been able to tell by my lack of Bachelor recaps this week, I’m not really in a season of hard-hitting goal-getting productivity. Last year I was reading two or more books a month (a fair amount for me), staying consistent with recaps, writing my book, and loving every moment of crossing finish lines. While I’m still working out consistently, reading casually, and putting together new writing projects, I’ve absolutely lost the sense of urgency that propelled me forward in 2020.

And I don’t feel bad about it. I’m not mad at myself and I know nothing is wrong. I’m not afraid I’ll never be able to crank on turbo mode ever again. Yet before I read the river metaphor, I couldn’t quite pinpoint why I’m so okay with this season of rest. Usual me would feel like a bump on a log or wonder what I’m doing with my life if I’m not actively hustling toward a specific result. In this moment, though, I don’t feel lazy. I just feel…chill. I’m not bored or restless or unfulfilled or nervous about the future. I know with everything in me that I’ll “accomplish” things again. I just feel no need to do so right now.

What It Really Means to Rest Without Going Stagnant

This section of The Magnolia Journal helped me understand why I’m comfortable in this season of rest. I’m not stagnant. All the creativity and adventure and talents that God gave me are still inside of me and flowing—my surface is the only thing that is frozen. And when I’m ready, I’ll melt back into my flow and discover all the new growth and excitement that has continue propelling forward, just waiting for me to hop on board. But after a year of childbirth + raising a newborn and a toddler, writing and publishing a book, reading and reviewing books online, losing 70 pounds of baby weight, and being generally on top of every aspect of my life, well, it’s probably a natural thing to rest for a bit.

Rest Doesn’t Mean Falling Behind

A lot of life coaches or motivational speakers or career idols talk about the importance of rest, but in the same breath they seem to perpetuate this idea that taking a break is going to lead to bad habits or incite laziness. I totally understand how it might be tough to kick into high gear after taking some time to recharge, but I truly haven’t experienced any sense of “getting behind” during my month of rest this January.

I’ve still worked out three times a week, keeping up with healthy habits I formed last year. I’ve still been reading and exploring creative ideas and cooking dinner every night instead of ordering in. The elements of a healthy, productive life are still at play— that’s what a lifestyle is. But the lack of urgency in it all—the absence of deadlines or expectations—is what’s allowing me to truly rest. And while I don’t know what will come of this rest—what ideas or results the undercurrent will reveal within me when I melt—I have complete faith that this rest will be fruitful.