Rest as Revolution: Reclaiming Joy and Wholeness in a Capitalist System

Capitalism thrives on productivity, extraction, and the relentless pursuit of efficiency. It is a system designed to reward output over well-being, to prioritize labor over humanity, and, especially for Black bodies, to devalue rest as an act of defiance rather than necessity. For too long, I operated under the deeply ingrained belief that my worth was tied to my productivity—that my ability to work, to create, to contribute was what made me valuable. It wasn’t until I began to unlearn this conditioning — this inherited narrative of exhaustion — that I realized rest is not a luxury. It is a radical act of self-preservation, an essential boundary for wholeness, and the foundation of true creativity and innovation.

The Inheritance of Exhaustion

Growing up, I never saw my father take a vacation. He worked tirelessly, holding down multiple jobs, often six days a week, and rarely, if ever, allowing himself to pause. His work ethic was admirable, but it was also a reflection of a system that demanded more from him than it ever intended to give back. This was a common story among Black families: generations of labor without respite, an ingrained sense that rest was indulgent or even dangerous, that survival depended on perpetual motion. This imprinted on me a belief that my value was tied to my ability to produce. That if I wasn’t working, I wasn’t contributing. If I wasn’t contributing, I wasn’t worthy.

This is not a personal flaw but a systemic issue, one deeply rooted in the exploitation of Black labor. From slavery to sharecropping to today’s gig economy and corporate grind culture, the expectation that Black people must work twice as hard to be seen as half as worthy persists. As writer Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry, asserts, “Rest is a form of resistance because it disrupts and pushes back against capitalism and white supremacy.”

For my Black ancestors, exhaustion has long been both normalized and expected. Our labor has been extracted for centuries, and capitalism has conditioned us to see rest as laziness rather than liberation. But I have come to see it differently. My father never took a vacation, but I do. And in doing so, I honor him — not by replicating his exhaustion, but by breaking the cycle. By choosing to rest, I am choosing life.

Rest as a Revolutionary Act

Allowing myself to rest has been one of the most radical acts of self-reclamation I have ever undertaken. But it did not happen overnight. Unlearning the belief that my worth is tied solely to my productivity has taken decades — years of therapy, deep self-awareness, and constant vigilance to reset my mindset and nurture a love of self that is not contingent on what I produce. The conditioning runs deep, and even now, I sometimes have to remind myself that rest is not a betrayal of my ambition or purpose, but an essential part of it.

Rest is not simply about sleeping or taking time off — it is about creating boundaries that affirm our inherent worth beyond what we do. It is about recognizing that joy, leisure, and play are not indulgences but essential to our humanity. In the words of bell hooks, “Choosing wellness is an act of political resistance.” By prioritizing our well-being, we are rejecting the idea that we are only as valuable as our labor.

The Creative Power of Rest

Innovation does not come from burnout. Creativity cannot thrive in exhaustion. Some of my most profound ideas and inspirations have emerged not when I was grinding endlessly but when I allowed myself to be still, to listen, to simply exist without expectation. When we rest, we allow our minds to wander, to connect dots we might otherwise miss. Neuroscientists have found that rest activates the brain’s default mode network (DMN), the area responsible for insight and creative problem-solving. In other words, rest fuels innovation.

I have witnessed firsthand how stepping away — pausing, breathing, recalibrating — has opened up space for my best work. The world tells us that we must push harder, do more, be more. But I have found that I am at my most powerful when I honor the rhythm of rest and restoration.

Rest has become an act of self-trust. It is an affirmation that I am enough as I am, without proving my worth through endless output. It is a declaration that my ancestors did not endure so much hardship for me to simply survive; they endured so I could thrive. And thriving requires rest.

A Call to Reclaim Rest

To rest as a Black person in a capitalist society is to challenge the system itself. It is to assert that we are not machines, that we are not disposable, that we are not defined solely by what we can produce. It is a call to rewrite the narrative we inherited and to embrace a new one: that our joy, our wholeness, and our well-being are revolutionary acts in and of themselves.

We deserve to rest. We deserve to dream. We deserve to take up space in ways that are not tied to our labor. We deserve lives filled with creativity, imagination, joy, and ease — not just as a reward for hard work, but because we are inherently worthy of it.

My father never took a vacation. But I do. And in that act, I honor him, I honor myself, and I honor the generations that come after me.