Why stopping isn’t giving up. It might be the kindest thing you do today.
When I was Mayor of Truro, there were days when I had absolutely nothing left. Not the kind of tired where you need an early night. The kind where you feel hollow. Where your brain can’t take in one more piece of information, but there’s another event, another speech, another meeting in the evening.
And I kept going. Not because I had the energy, but because stopping felt like letting people down.
I think most of us know that feeling. You’re exhausted, you know you’re exhausted, and you carry on anyway. You push through another hour, another email, another thing on the list. Until you can’t focus anymore. Until your body makes the decision for you.
Why do we do that?
Somewhere along the way, we built a culture that celebrates exhaustion as proof of commitment. “I’m so busy” became a badge of honour. “I haven’t stopped for weeks” became something people say with pride, as if running yourself into the ground is an achievement.
But tiredness is not a weakness. It’s your body and mind telling you something honest. And ignoring it is no different from ignoring any other signal that needs attention.
Thich Nhat Hanh wrote beautifully about this. He said that when animals in the forest get wounded, they find a place to lie down and rest completely. For days sometimes. They don’t feel guilty about it. They don’t lie there making lists of everything they should be doing. They just rest, and they heal.
We’ve forgotten how to do that.
I think there’s a dignity in saying, “I have done enough today.” Not as defeat. Not as laziness. As honesty. As the most compassionate thing you can offer yourself.
Because here’s what I’ve found. When you actually rest properly, without guilt, without one eye on your phone, without telling yourself you’ll just do one more thing, you come back with more to give. Not less.
Stopping is not the opposite of caring. Sometimes stopping is how you keep being able to care.
So here’s my challenge for you this week. Next time you catch yourself pushing through when you know you’re running on empty, ask yourself one question: what would I tell a friend who felt like this?
You already know the answer. You’d tell them to stop. To rest. To be kind to themselves.
Maybe it’s time to take your own advice.
Companion meditation: Permission to Rest — Inner Peace Meditations #98
Listen to the full conversation: The Dignity of Being Tired — Stillness in the Storms EP163
