REST AS REBELLION

Let’s get one thing straight: in a world where hustle culture has been marketed as a personality trait, choosing to rest is practically an act of civil disobedience. Every time you close your laptop at 5 p.m. instead of “just finishing one more email,” you’re basically flipping off capitalism with a silk pillowcase. Rest is not laziness. Rest is not weakness. Rest is rebellion….. and frankly, it might be the most punk-rock thing you can do in 2025.

For decades, we’ve been sold the gospel of grind: wake up at 5 a.m., drink coffee strong enough to burn holes through steel, journal about your “dream life,” then work until your eyes blur and your soul quietly files for divorce. Sleep is treated as optional. Lunch is “for amateurs.” And God forbid you dare to nap, you’ll be accused of lacking ambition, as if exhaustion is the new luxury brand. But let’s be real: grind culture isn’t aspirational. It’s a scam with better PR than cryptocurrency.

Here’s the dirty secret no CEO memoir will tell you: the machine only runs because we keep running ourselves into the ground. So what happens when you stop running? What happens when you take that nap at 3 p.m. on a Tuesday, even though Slack is pinging like a needy ex? You disrupt the system. You say, “My humanity is not up for sale, not even for unlimited free snacks in the office pantry.” Every yawn is a protest. Every stretch is a strike. Every nap is a miniature revolution under a blanket.

Think about it, our bodies aren’t designed for 24/7 productivity, they’re designed for rhythm, for rest, for shutting down and recharging like the beautifully complicated organic iPhones we are. But capitalism wants you to believe you’re a factory machine, not a human being. “Rise and grind” is just a prettier way of saying “wear yourself out for someone else’s profit.” Why do we glorify burnout but mock naps? Why do we respect people who brag about sleeping four hours but side-eye someone who unapologetically says, “I’ll be unreachable, I’m taking a nap”?

History backs this rebellion. The civil rights movement demanded dignity, including the right to rest. Feminist movements highlighted how women’s unpaid labor kept households running while denying them rest. Even labor unions fought for shorter workdays so people could, you know, actually live. Rest has always been political because it challenges the idea that your worth is tied to productivity. Today, napping is just the latest frontier of that fight.

And don’t underestimate its radical power. Imagine boardrooms full of executives who took naps instead of making billion-dollar mistakes fueled by Red Bull and ego. Imagine students who weren’t bullied into thinking pulling all-nighters is a badge of honor. Imagine a society that didn’t collapse at the idea of workers choosing balance over burnout. Sounds utopian? Maybe. But it starts with a small one unapologetic nap at a time.

And here’s the kicker – when you nap, you’re not just resting. You’re refusing. Refusing to believe your only value is in output. Refusing to hand your energy over to a system that’s allergic to slowness. Refusing to sacrifice your health on the altar of “efficiency.” And that refusal is powerful. It’s contagious. When you say, “I’m going to rest,” you give others permission to rest too. Suddenly, the whole myth of hustle crumbles, not with riots in the street, but with quiet, glorious snores.

So yes, take that nap. Make it political. Treat your eight hours of sleep as a manifesto. Curl up under your blanket like you’re drafting a protest sign. Dream boldly, because a well-rested mind is the most dangerous kind, it questions, it imagines, it resists. And the next time someone tries to guilt you into more grind, just smile, yawn dramatically, and say: “Sorry, I’m busy fighting capitalism in my REM cycle.”

Rest isn’t weakness. Rest is rebellion. Now go lie down and start a revolution.