What if I told you you could add ten years to your life by doing nothing? I mean it: Nothing. For 24 hours. Each week.
On a day many of us consider the junk drawer of the week, Sunday is seen differently by communities that observe the Sabbath. For instance, in Loma Linda, CA, the community takes a nonnegotiable day of soaking up rest and joy each weekend, and according to research, alongside diet and exercise, this ritual of relaxation helps them live ten years longer than the rest of us.
“What if I told you you could add ten years to your life by doing nothing?”
Loma Linda is one of five globally recognized regions of exceptional longevity, known as a Blue Zone. Largely made up of Seventh-day Adventists, Loma Linda actually sets apart their Saturdays as a devoted act to keeping the Sabbath — a Biblical tradition where observers take 24 hours each week to worship and rest. But the outcomes of their practice show us the importance of taking a day of rest.
Dr. Dan B. Allender, author of “Sabbath: The Ancient Practices,” describes the Sabbath as an invitation to “feast, play, dance, have sex, sing, pray, laugh, tell stories, read, paint, walk, and watch creation in its fullness.” It’s a gift to be opened every weekend like clockwork.
No work, no chores, no catch-up. Just delicious delight.
“No work, no chores, no catch-up. Just delicious delight.”
So, while most of us are piling up our weekends with leftover tasks we couldn’t get to midweek, the residents of Loma Linda are retelling their favorite stories, taking long naps in the grass, and living to see an extra decade because of it.
But in our productivity-obsessed world, carving out an entire day purely for rest sounds like a ridiculous luxury. When social media works with hustle culture, we’re made to feel like we’re chronically behind. Every free moment is a chance to catch up to the pace of everyone else as the prevailing message rings, “I can rest when I’m done (or dead).”
But Oliver Burkeman, author of “Four Thousand Weeks,” says our culture is racing against a rigged clock: “Becoming more efficient just makes you more rushed, and trying to clear the decks simply makes them fill up again faster […] The day will never arrive when you finally have everything under control.”
Productivity content like the Sunday reset trend on social media doesn’t help us realize the cost of our hurried, hyper-efficient way of life. Sure, watching creators deep clean their toilets and sanitize their shiplap coffee tables is a mesmerizing internet rabbit hole. However, Sunday resets run the risk of reinforcing that “always behind” message, robbing us of what Loma Linda calls creating “a sanctuary of time” with the tool of rest.
“Sunday resets run the risk of reinforcing that ‘always behind’ message, robbing us of what Loma Linda calls creating ‘a sanctuary of time’ with the tool of rest.”
Taking a page out of Loma Linda’s book, I started toying with the idea of unplugging and giving a whole day to simply lingering in delight, creating my own “sanctuary of time.” So I swapped Sunday resets for a rest day, and while there’s no way to know if it’s extended my life by a decade, I can say confidently that it’s changed it forever.
Here’s what happened.
I was ironically more productive.
Choosing to take 24 hours a week for nothing but delight didn’t make the chores and weekend to-dos disappear. Things still needed to get done. However, I found that when I chose to set aside Sundays for rest, not only did I enter my week more restored, but I subconsciously began to make it a point to tackle tasks like grocery shopping, cleaning, and meal prep on days I was already in go-mode.
Knowing I had a day of full decompression ahead helped me preserve the time I needed to. I avoided putting off my practical responsibilities midweek. The structure instead lit a fire underneath me to carve out small chunks of time to get chores done and out of the way so I could sink fully into my day of rest to come.
“Knowing I had a day of full decompression ahead helped me preserve the time I needed to.”
While my midweek results are not always on the level of a Sunday reset, I realized that what’s truly important tends to get done eventually.
By taking a day of rest, whether or not everything on my to-do list is done, I’m engaging in a courageous act of detangling productivity from my self-worth. I am learning to prioritize living a present life over a perfect one. In her book, “The Gifts of Imperfection,” Dr. Brene Brown urges, “If we want to live a Wholehearted life, we have to become intentional about cultivating sleep and play, and about letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth.”
This doesn’t mean I never do laundry again. It means I rethink and restructure my weekly load to address the most important things first. I might get less done overall, but I’m forced to assign importance, letting the rest fall to the wayside and realizing maybe those things weren’t that important after all.
I learned what rest meant to me.
What’s restful for one person can be draining for the next, and it took rounds of trial and error to discover what was refreshing for my unique mind, body, and soul.
For example, a day packed with social engagements can be energizing for some, while for others, it depletes them of energy.
“A day packed with social engagements can be energizing for some, while for others, it depletes them of energy.”
Taking note of the activities that, when they ended, I felt energized, inspired, and at peace continues to be helpful in determining what to do on my rest days and what to avoid.
Similarly, giving myself time to get lost — in a creative project, a book, or a research itch — is a treat for the brain as I allow myself to linger and luxuriate in what’s caught my interest. With no work to get back to, I put no time limit on engaging in delight for as long as it lasts, and as a result, I’ve found rest days move along slower, sweeter, and more restorative.
I learned how to listen to my body.
My biggest challenge in incorporating weekly rest days was slowing down enough to enjoy them.
In the quiet of a do-nothing day, pent-up stress from the week would amp up in my body, making me antsy and making me reach for distractions like scrolling mindlessly or falling down internet rabbit holes that passed the time but were joyless in the end.
After a week of go-go-go, my body remained in hyperactive mode, urging me to dispense that frenzy energy. I needed to learn how to decelerate my internal world long enough to step into a slower pace of delight.
“I needed to learn how to decelerate my internal world long enough to step into a slower pace of delight.”
In their book, “Burnout,” Amelia and Emily Nagoski share that “For some of us, it’s been so long since we listened to our bodies, we hardly know how to start understanding what they’re trying to tell us, much less how to trust and believe what they’re saying. To make matters worse, the more exhausted we are, the noisier the signal is, and the harder it is to hear the message.”
In the same way, I needed to set my schedule to support my day of rest; I needed to put my mind and body to receive the rest.
I incorporated journaling techniques like brain dumps and using a voice note on my phone to process everything swimming around in my head externally. That way, I give my brain time to acknowledge what’s happening inside, giving the thoughts somewhere to live outside my mind and body.
In addition, I work to move any pent-up energy in and out of my body with a yoga practice at home, a walk in the morning, or a little dance break — whichever feels the most joyful that particular day.
I learned how to notice.
A ritual of rest became life-changing when it helped me slow down enough that I began to notice small, profound details of my life I’d been overlooking.
I now notice how shadows change shape on the sidewalk when I’m going for a stroll, how the first sip of coffee differs from the next, and I hear the soft, familiar scratches of my favorite record playing when I sit down to read.
“I tell myself throughout my rest days that my only job is to notice.”
In the rhythm of slowing down, the practice of noticing has made space in my mind to wander, contemplate, and take a breath as I take in my world afresh each week. I tell myself throughout my rest days that my only job is to notice. In the famous words of Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
As a result, the art of noticing has bled into the other six days of my week, stretching my capacity to catch those fleeting, rich details of life that make it worth living, and I’m left more grateful, grounded, and present because of it.
When I began swapping productivity-driven Sundays for rest days, I wanted to discover if the long-lasting folks of Loma Linda were on to something. I found a ritual of making room in my schedule to decelerate, notice, and soak in joy set me up for more peace in the six days that followed than dust-free shelves and plumped pillows ever could. Sure, a rainy Sunday vacuuming and Windexing your mirrors is satisfying in its own right, but I found that making space for a day that doesn’t involve productivity is pretty life-changing.
“Life is worth living as presently as possible.”
Life is worth living as presently as possible. Incorporating a ritual of weekly rest is a surefire way to slow down, open up, and enjoy it abundantly.
What gets in the way of resting regularly? How have you found ways to decompress, manage your stress, and find peace in your weekly schedule? Share your thoughts in the comments!
Cheyanne Solis is a copywriter relieving entrepreneurs to rest and invest more in what they love. She writes on practical wellness and mindful productivity from the perspective of sustainable work-life balance. Explore her work and connect here.
