Recognising the right to relax

I want to learn to shake off the lingering feeling when I engage in acts of restful leisure that I ought to be doing something better. I want to learn to do less and rest more. Representation PIC/iStock

As the local brass band performed the classic carols from the top of the Tramin clocktower, it struck me this was my fourth consecutive Christmas here in South Tyrol. The last two weeks had been so physically and emotionally demanding. I couldn't do any of the activities I had intended to do with our toddler. Between him being sick with a relentless fever and my insane workload, no cookies were baked nor did we manage a Christmas cake. I did marinate a whole chicken ahead of time, so our lunch was sorted. It was an easy cook requiring only oven time. I boiled potatoes on the side, which I then seasoned and stuck alongside the chicken.

This meant I had barely three or four dishes to wash post-prep. Anyone who has known me before I moved here would find these facts absolutely shocking. I was never one for minimalist spreads. I inherited my parents' tendency towards lavishness. At least three kinds of meats, alongside three or four salads, a pulao, fried prawns. Over-abundance has always been our aesthetic. The dining table had to be so replete with a range of culinary achievements, you had to jostle for space to eat. Always enough to feed an army. Always enough so you didn't need to cook again for days.

Ever since I moved here, I've been unintentionally scaling down on my excesses. I gradually started to realise how much of my anxiety was linked to this desire to push myself beyond what I was physically able to do. Because I had seen my parents do exactly that, I normalised this behaviour. Pregnancy and child-raising in the absence of a robust support system forces you to reconsider your priorities. Though the real game-changer is when you decide to consciously let go of the people-pleasing tendencies that were cemented into your state of being from childhood, especially if you were raised as a girl in South Asia. Once you begin to shift the focus towards self-care, you start to see how much of the expectations you frequently had of yourself were actually imposed on you by other people. When you move away from those systems, you suddenly see how the only person to whom you are answerable is yourself. If you can hold yourself accountable and nurture that relationship, you begin to find a certain peace and tranquillity.

These days I've seen friends and acquaintances post about all the books they've read over the year, with some recommending their favourites. Ordinarily, I would have felt guilty about the fact that I barely managed to read two books. Both are unfinished. The first I think I gave up on, the second I may actually finish before New Year's Eve. This doesn't mean my life has been bereft of intellectual stimulation. The nature of my everyday work offers plenty of opportunity for creative and conceptual imaginings. This year I actually managed to print the Traminer Marmeladen Almanach, the outcome of my research into jam-making traditions in South Tyrol, which you can download for free on my website (go to the research section). And yesterday morning I realised I had, in fact, finished writing a whole book. That's more than enough to call the year productive, I think.

But this is precisely the kind of mentality I want to gradually relinquish… this idea of being productive, of imagining worth in relation to time, which I believe comes from capitalist ideologies. I want to learn to shake off the lingering feeling when I engage in acts of restful leisure that I ought to be doing something better. I want to be able to rest or be leisurely without feeling like I am shirking off other ‘duties' or responsibilities. I want to learn to do less and rest more.

Many of us have this idea that we must earn our breaks, earn our rest. Only when we have done enough do we feel like we have the right to sit back and chill or do nothing for a while. Our toxic work cultures reinforce working through our breaks. We rarely have the opportunity to truly sign off and check out, which is, in fact, what we need in order to genuinely rest. How do you surrender and allow yourself to be in the present when you have work emails or texts from your superiors ‘gently' asking when something might be done? How do you maintain your sanity when you have a toddler who wants you constantly, who is not content with your absence? I've no answers to these questions. I am trying to navigate my way through the complexities of full-time parenthood and full-time work while trying to manage pregnancy and my bodily need for rest and leisure. I fail frequently. But that doesn't stop me from trying anew, daily, to be a bit less busy, to do just enough and not venture into excessiveness, to let go of anxieties whose sources are external. Perhaps this is my resolution for 2025; to be less productive and more content.

Deliberating on the life and times of every woman, Rosalyn D'Mello is a reputable art critic and the author of A Handbook For My Lover. She tweets @RosaParx
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