The Soft Power Journal

Tag: Sacred Rest

  • The Truth Is, I Wasn’t Lazy—My Nervous System Was Tired

    The Truth Is, I Wasn’t Lazy—My Nervous System Was Tired

    For the longest time, I thought I was the problem.

    The version of me who couldn’t get out of bed some days.

    The one who started a project and abandoned it halfway through.

    The woman who kept telling herself, “You have so much potential, why can’t you just do the thing?”

    I wasn’t lazy.

    I was tired.

    But not just physically tired—my nervous system was tired.

    And I didn’t know how to name that until I started healing for real.

    Nobody talks about what happens after survival mode ends.

    When your body finally has permission to pause.

    When the adrenaline fades.

    When the constant urgency quiets—

    And suddenly, you don’t know how to function without chaos driving the wheel.

    That’s not laziness.

    That’s your nervous system asking: “Can I finally rest now?”

    I’ve learned that “not doing enough” is often just your body trying to protect you.

    And for women who have carried generations of pressure, perfectionism, and productivity—we don’t always know how to just be.

    We shame our slowness.

    We label our fatigue as failure.

    We call ourselves lazy when really…

    we’re just trying to feel safe for the first time.

    Here’s what nervous system exhaustion can look like (that you might mistake for laziness):

    Chronic procrastination (your brain is overloaded, not unmotivated)

    Forgetfulness or zoning out (that’s dissociation, not flakiness)

    Starting something, then freezing (a trauma response, not inconsistency)

    Struggling to complete simple tasks (because your energy is in survival, not thriving)

    Feeling “numb” when you used to be excited (that’s emotional depletion, not apathy)

    So how do we start honoring our nervous systems instead of shaming them?

    1. Replace judgment with curiosity.

    Instead of “What’s wrong with me?” try:

    “What might my body be trying to say?”

    2. Make rest part of the healing—not the reward.

    You don’t have to earn it. You need it.

    Daily. Not just after burnout.

    3. Start with micro moves.

    When you feel frozen, try the 2-minute rule.

    Two minutes of movement.

    Two minutes of breath.

    Two minutes of showing up for yourself—gently.

    4. Learn your own regulation tools.

    For some, that’s walking.

    For others, journaling. Or humming. Or crying. Or breathwork.

    Your body has wisdom. Let her lead.

    This is your reminder: You are not broken. You’re just healing.

    Healing is a full-body thing.

    It affects your energy. Your emotions. Your motivation.

    And yes, your capacity.

    You’re not behind.

    You’re not lazy.

    You’re learning how to feel safe again—without chaos, without pressure, without constantly proving your worth.

    So next time your body asks to slow down…

    Don’t call it lazy.

    Call it sacred.

    Call it nervous system wisdom.

  • The Sacred Work of Resting Without Guilt, Surrendering the Plan, and Learning to Trust God in Real Time

    The Sacred Work of Resting Without Guilt, Surrendering the Plan, and Learning to Trust God in Real Time

    There was a moment—recently, actually—when I sat in my room surrounded by half-finished ideas, unopened emails, and a heart that felt too tired to keep performing.

    I looked around and realized…

    I had no plan. No next step. No fire left to fake it.

    And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to push through it.

    I just wanted to rest.

    But that scared me.

    Because rest, for women like us—women who have survived off strength—can feel like failure.

    Like letting the world move without you.

    Like being lazy. Or falling behind.

    But what if I told you that rest isn’t weakness?

    That surrender doesn’t mean defeat—

    It means devotion.

    It means trust.

    Nobody teaches you how to trust God in real time.

    Not when everything’s going right.

    I mean when the plan falls apart.

    When the vision board starts to feel like a lie.

    When you’re in the hallway between what you prayed for and what hasn’t shown up yet.

    It’s one thing to trust God with hindsight.

    But to trust Him right here—in the pause, in the unraveling, in the silence?

    That’s sacred work.

    Resting without guilt requires reparenting yourself.

    I had to sit with the part of me that only felt valuable when I was producing something.

    The part that confused hustle for healing.

    The part that believed if I wasn’t pushing, striving, creating—I wasn’t enough.

    That voice? It wasn’t mine.

    It was inherited.

    It was survival.

    It was my old blueprint.

    But I’m building a new one now.

    One where rest is not earned—it’s honored.

    One where I don’t need a reason to pause.

    One where I can lay my plans down without thinking I’m letting God down too.

    This season has taught me something I’ll never forget:

    When you stop trying to control every outcome,

    When you stop begging for clarity before you take a step,

    When you stop asking “God, just give me the full picture” before you move…

    You finally start to live from trust instead of fear.

    Not because you know what’s coming.

    But because you know Who is with you in the unknown.

    Here’s how I’m learning to rest, surrender, and trust right now:

    1. I no longer ask for signs. I ask for stillness.

    Because sometimes the sign is in the pause.

    Sometimes God is saying, “You don’t need confirmation. You just need to breathe.”

    2. I give myself permission to not be “on.”

    Not every season is meant for output.

    Some seasons are meant to restore what burnout tried to steal.

    3. I lay the plan down every morning.

    Literally. I write my to-do list and then I whisper:

    “But God, if You need to interrupt this—I trust You.”

    That’s not easy. But it’s freedom.

    4. I remember that provision is not limited by my performance.

    Even when I rest, He works.

    Even when I pause, I’m still held.

    Even when I don’t feel productive, I am still protected.

    So if you’re tired—really tired—this post is your permission slip.

    To stop forcing.

    To stop pretending.

    To stop proving.

    Lay it all down.

    The timeline.

    The expectation.

    The weight.

    And pick up something lighter:

    Peace.

    Presence.

    God’s promise.

    You don’t need to have it all figured out.

    You just need to trust that you’re not being forgotten in the stillness.

    This is sacred.

    This is holy.

    This… is real-time trust.

    And if all you can do today is breathe, whisper a prayer, and believe that rest is also part of the work—

    then baby, you are right on time.