Rest. Recovery. Self-care.

Words we’ve all heard, maybe even whispered to ourselves with a halfhearted, “Yeah, I know,” before pushing them aside. But here’s the truth: taking care of yourself isn’t optional. It isn’t indulgent. It isn’t something you get to only when the stars align. It’s necessary. And this past season reminded me of that in a very real way.

Alongside everything I write here, the acting I do, the filmmaking, the coaching, the content creation — I also work full-time as a project manager in a global corporation. That job pays the bills. The creative work feeds me in different ways, but it doesn’t pay much at all. So I end up juggling both worlds at the same time, with the same amount of hours everyone else has.

From Labor Day weekend onward, I worked more weekends than not. Many days stretched to twenty hours between meetings, deliverables, writing sessions, and film-related tasks. When a big corporate push overlaps with creative deadlines, something has to give — and usually, it’s me. I love what I do, but even meaningful work can wear you down when you try to hold all of it at once.

I knew the burnout was coming. It wasn’t my first time ignoring my own limits.

The weekends I didn’t work, I tried to recharge in whatever way I could. Sometimes that meant real rest. Other times, it meant surrounding myself with people who help me breathe easier. I also carved out time to work ahead on content, because I never want this part of my life — sharing stories, insight, and encouragement — to feel like an obligation. The moment it becomes that, the authenticity disappears.

When my latest project finally wrapped — on my late husband’s birthday, of all days — I knew I needed a full reset. I planned the following week off and ran away to the mountains of Vermont. I didn’t run away because I needed a vacation, but because if I stayed home, I knew I’d keep working. I work from home, which means my office is always right there. And when responsibilities pile up — kids needing things, the dog needing attention, bills stacking in the inbox — stepping away becomes almost impossible.

So I left.

And I rested. Really rested. I napped. A lot. I went back to the gym for the first time in months. I cooked simple meals. A friend stayed for a few days, and we talked about everything under the sun with one rule: no stress. Just presence. Just… being.

It worked.

I’m writing this from the resort where I ran off to hide, and I’m more energized and focused than I’ve felt in weeks.

If stepping away helped me — someone who often pushes himself too hard in both my professional and creative worlds — maybe it’s time we talk about what rest, recovery, and self-care can look like in your life, too.

What Rest Really Does

Rest isn’t laziness. Rest is maintenance.

It’s what keeps burnout from becoming your default setting.

It’s what keeps you from snapping under pressure or running on fumes.

And yet, most of us wait until we’re exhausted before giving ourselves permission to slow down. You have permission to rest.

Especially if you’re grieving, rebuilding, or balancing an emotional load while still trying to keep up with everyday life — rest becomes one of the first things you neglect, even though it’s one of the things you need most.

So let’s make this real and doable.

Making Self-Care Real (and Actually Doable)

Self-care doesn’t need to be complicated. It just needs to be honest.

Here are a few things that helped me — and might help you — which can fit into the rhythm of real life:

Start with your body.

If you’re tired, let yourself be tired. Take the nap. Close your eyes for ten minutes. Eat something with actual nutrients. Your body keeps score, and sometimes the simplest act of kindness goes the longest way.

Create one protected hour each week.

Not a whole day. Not a mountain retreat. Just one hour nobody else gets to claim. Use it for whatever restores you — quiet, movement, reading, breathing.

Unplug from something that drains you.

Turn off notifications. Log out for an evening. Put your phone in another room during dinner. Small disconnections create huge emotional resets.

Reach toward the people who ground you.

Call the friend who makes you laugh. Invite someone over. Go on a walk together. Human connection is one of the most underrated forms of self-care, especially when you carry emotional weight.

Give yourself permission to not be available.

Let a text wait. Let a chore wait. Let someone else handle something for once. You’re not failing anyone by protecting your energy.

Do one small thing that makes life a little lighter.

Open a window. Change your sheets. Declutter one drawer. Light a candle. Small shifts add up to peaceful space.

Remember: we’re looking for realistic places to start, not grand gestures at this point.

Your Challenge This Week

Choose one thing — just one — that brings you rest, comfort, or clarity.

Protect it. Practice it. Let it do its job.

Your responsibilities matter, but so do you. I’ve said it before: You can’t put on your oxygen mask if you’re focused on everyone else.

And the moment you treat your wellbeing as essential, not optional, something inside you shifts, and you might actually find yourself saying, “I matter.”

Because you do.