When Rest Feels Restless

I was on vacation. Or at least, I was supposed to be.

After months of leading, teaching, planning, and solving problems, I finally stepped away for two weeks of vacation and study leave. I look forward to having two weeks off, because one never feels like quite enough. One of my favorite rhythms is retreating to Camp Lambec — a cabin by myself, and precious little internet. One of my favorite practices is walking, and often my step count is much higher when I'm there. (Yes, I still count steps...)

But it took me a few days to realize something unsettling: even though my schedule was clear, my mind and body were still running full speed. I hadn’t downshifted. I kept the full-tilt attitude that invades my leadership on a daily basis. In many ways, I have both succumbed to and thrive on what Charles Hummel calls "The Tyranny of the Urgent."

The first day, I caught myself checking my email, scrolling through work notes, and thinking about upcoming projects. The second day, when I finally slowed down, I felt… low. My energy dropped. I wasn’t refreshed or inspired. I was just tired, and honestly, a little depressed. It was hard to get going. The walks that normally energize me were a drag. Even energy for playing my favorite strategy game wasn't there. It was like all the gas had been sucked out of my tank.

It turns out that rest doesn’t always feel restful at first.

The Whiplash of Slowing Down

Leadership demands constant engagement. Even when we’re not actively working, our thoughts orbit around people, problems, and possibilities. We learn to live on adrenaline, and it becomes our normal. For me, I'm constantly thinking about the church and how to move it forward. I think about the needs of the community at large; I think about the needs for spiritual maturity of the congregation; I think about the people who need special attention and the people who need to be reassured. I replay problems and situations in my head over and over again in order to see the moments where different choices could have been made. I look for the opportunities disguised as problems.

As much as that's exhilarating (if you know Clifton StrengthsFinder 34, my top trait is repairer), it can feed a constant need for the next project, success, or purpose.

Then, when the adrenaline fades, our bodies and souls remind us of everything we’ve been ignoring: fatigue, stress, disappointment, even grief. Rest exposes the parts of our soul that productivity hides.

Yet, we carry those parts with us whether we pay attention to them or not. The problem with not slowing down or stopping (other than ignoring one of the 10 Commandments and a creational design...) is that those things begin to drag on our system and we need more adrenaline to keep going.

And then we try to stop.

It’s like slamming on the brakes after speeding down the highway — everything inside you lurches forward. Even when you stop, the motion keeps going. Your body wants motion, even when your soul needs stillness. For me, my body screams and my soul cries.

It's a horrible, yet needed reminder that we weren't meant to maintain Warp 9 all the time. We were created finite. We have limits. And while many of us live to show how limits can be by-passed, some simply can't.

So we're presented with an option: Every leader faces that moment — the choice between trust and control, surrender and speed. What's a leader to do?

More on that next post. Right now, I need a nap, because the adrenaline crash is real.