by Nikẹ Campbell
The holidays are here again. The stores are decorated, shelved with gifts for anyone you may have in mind. Some homes in my neighborhood have been lit with lights since October. The air is thick with anticipation of good tidings—eggnog, good food, and social gatherings.
My workplace is no different. The cubicles and office doors are decked with shiny Christmas wrap, and in the center of the ground floor is a looming white Christmas tree. This year is different in one aspect, though. This year, I will not be throwing myself into the chaos of the season, either at work or at home. There’s a saying in the Yoruba language: A kì dá ẹru ikùn pa ori—One does not weigh the head down with a load that belongs to the belly. I have come to the realization, after years of catering to others, that I’m not superhuman. The season is meant to be relished and enjoyed, and I deserve rest.
This time last year at the office, during our weekly staff meeting in the conference room, the office manager, as expected, asked the staff what we would each bring to our Christmas potluck party.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to make it an international potluck this year?” she paused, looking in my direction before continuing. “It would be much more fun to eat foods from other cultures.”
My colleagues wore the same resigned look they had every year and did not say a word. I, on the other hand, experienced heart palpitations. We were still in the process of meeting deadlines for a proposal. This happened every year, and every year, we went along, suffering in silence.
“Food like jollof rice! And injera!” The office manager added.
Did she know the process of making jollof rice? The chopping of vegetables, the blending, frying, and watching over the pot to ensure it didn’t burn? The thought of slaving over the stove early in the morning and then bringing it into the office pushed me to speak up.
“I can’t do it. Not this time. We do this every year, and it is quite stressful. I just want to rest this holiday season.”
The room was quiet for a few seconds. Then, the reactions came at me in a frenzy of questions and comments.
“Who has time to rest?”
“What do you mean you just want to rest? Holiday season is for cooking.”
“Rest? Don’t you have family gatherings to attend?”
I asserted that it would be unfair to staff to go home and whip up a dish only to come in to party for two hours and get back to work. I suggested the office throw us a party. We deserved it. “Besides, I’m tired.” I said it with my full chest, unashamed.
Why do we feel guilty for resting? Why has society programmed us to feel shame when we take time out for ourselves? Imagine taking a day off from work not because we’re sick, but because we don’t want to get sick. Imagine being able to tell family and friends we can’t make it to holiday parties this year because we want to rest. No, we deserve to rest.
There are different types of rest. We’re familiar with physical rest, but there’s also involuntary physical rest—when our bodies shut down and we fall sick. Sadly, this happens when the harm has already been done. This is not preventive rest. Healthy physical rest is taking time off from work, saying no to activities that will overexert us, like cooking for a party. Instead, ordering food or volunteering to purchase the plates and cutlery could be an option.
Mental rest is needed when we recognize that it’s hard to focus. This comes from brain overload. Processing so much information in a day keeps our minds buzzing, even after we turn in for the night. Mental rest for each person looks different. A first step would be turning off our devices and instead actively participating in what we know relaxes us. For some, it’s going for walks; for others, it’s meditating. Whatever pulls us away from the busy world into a quiet place to pause.
Social rest, especially during the holidays, can be tricky. Social events may drain us. This form of rest requires that we identify those in our social circle who deplete our energy and then set boundaries. It may sound harsh, but this could mean avoiding certain family members, friends, or events. The recent popularity of Friendsgiving, replacing family-centered Thanksgiving, is evidence that many are choosing to celebrate with good friends who have become family.
Sensory rest is the rest needed away from the hectic city life. It is rest found in reconnecting with nature. Some people go on hikes or camping. Others find a place at home to grow a garden. Some sit in the sun, while others walk on the shore, listening to the sounds of the waves.
Emotional rest is the rest we didn’t know we needed. It’s the rest that comes with being our true selves. It is similar to social rest, but this rest is being intentional and vulnerable around people. This requires identifying our safe social spaces.
Creative rest is finding rest in creativity—surrounding ourselves with art or literature; attending poetry sessions or musical events. Creative activity that pours into us is also that which replenishes us.
This holiday season, give yourself the gift of rest, which requires one thing—to know thyself. I dare say that many of us have yet to embark on that journey of self-discovery, and there’s no better way to find oneself than in the arms of relaxation. Cam
Nikę Campbell is a Nigerian-American, born in Lviv, Ukraine, and raised in Lagos, Nigeria. She is the author of the historical fiction, Thread of Gold Beads and 2018 Red Hen Press Fiction Award finalist, Saro. Campbell’s short story, "Silent Passenger," was published in the Black Diaspora Anthology (2024) after winning second place for African Diaspora Award 2023.
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