The Heptagon of True Rest

She smiled at me knowingly, wisdom suffusing her expression as she spoke:

“Maybe instead of singing every day, try every other day.

Let’s see what happens when you rest more.”

Inside, I stuck out my tongue, made a ‘blah blah blah’ motion with one hand, and muttered “yeah, yeah, yeah… take your smug wiseness and smoke it, Cat.”

(Cat is my vocal coach.)

Outside, I begrudgingly agree while swallowing a familiar pill.

———

Lately, the wise, all-knowing Universe has been bombarding me with winks and nudges to “slow the fuck down and rest you tireless, insatiable Energizer Bunny.”

I went through a stretch with singing where I could still hear and feel progress, but breakthroughs weren’t arriving in the same ‘ceiling-busting’ way I’d grown used to. 

My gym sessions felt less fiery, more going through the motions-y.

Humans, cards, and trees have all been mirroring the same image.

I began getting sleepy and winding down earlier in the evenings.

Even my gentle forest walks started feeling effortful.

So after 10 months of near-constant deep energetic rewiring, the page has turned:

Rest is where integration happens, and so True Rest has become my focus.

True Rest comes in different forms:

There’s the physical rest of sleeping and stretching; the mental rest of disconnecting from life’s constant demands; the emotional rest of expressing yourself honestly—no masks; the sensory rest of reducing stimulation; the creative rest of prioritizing inspiration over expression; the social rest of taking solitude or spending time only with people who light you up; and spiritual rest, which is about connecting deeply with your values and what gives your life meaning.

Together, they form The Heptagon of True Rest.

———

As Fall settles deeper into the Comox Valley, I can see the world beginning to rest. 

All day now, the light carries a golden hue—like golden hour on a seasonal scale.

Each time I wander into the woods, I see more yellow leaves, more bare branches.

In the garden, I can sense the plants moving into dormancy, letting go of the leaves, seeds, and flowers they can’t sustain through the cold, wet, and dark months ahead.

Yuki is slowing too: choosing cozier places to sleep, spending less time outdoors.

I find myself wanting to join the sun, the trees, the plants, the cat.

I find myself wanting all the energy I’ve stirred up this year to consolidate.

I find myself wanting to let all the changes I’ve wrought settle into my system.

I find myself wanting to embody Fall’s energetic blueprint as deeply as possible…

Which is a map that Jinx begrudgingly respects.

———

For me, this means embracing the physical rest of yoga; the mental rest of forest walks; the emotional rest of honest self-expression; the sensory rest of raving once a month at most; the creative rest of letting music seep deeper into my life; the social rest of sinking into solitude or time with dear friends and family; and the spiritual rest of walking further and further along my Starlight Tightrope.

Now, resting more doesn’t mean doing nothing—or putting life on hold.

For example, right now I find myself needing physical, sensory, and creative rest the most.  

So this week, I’m swapping singing and lifting for yoga and longer walks. Raving less is a way of reclaiming time for my everyday rhythm, my truest form of rest. And the deeper I let music seep into my life, the more inspiration drifts in alongside. 

The result is less energy being spent outward, more being circulated within.

Like us humans, rest is multi-dimensional, found in many places, taking many forms. 

And sometimes, we crave a kind of rest we might not even be aware exists.

In crafting The Heptagon of True Rest, my hope is that your own understanding and definition of what rest really is expands, and helps you find nourishment this Fall.

———

Golden light spills in through the windows, like honey dripping from the hands of a sleeping god. 

I smile as seven alder leaves loosen their grip, twirling down to the earth to begin composting.

My hands hold a mug of honeyed peppermint tea, warming themselves.

I watch the steam dance the same way that smoke does, and I smile.

Yuki slumbers in her hammock, curled up in a perfect circle.

“Rest isn’t laziness,” I purrrr to myself. 

Rest is its own kind of productivity.

Rest is a requirement.

Rest is integration.

Rest is sacred.

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander