'Beautiful people with beautiful problems'

The fourteenth one

Hi, hey, hello–I’ve uncovered the truth about Rest.

Most days I feel like a hamster on a wheel, endlessly repeating the same routines day after day. This mindset has led me to approach each day as if it’s just a copy of the last, expecting no change or surprises. Julia Louis-Dreyfus once shared that her father advised her to have something to look forward to each day. And lately that idea has become increasingly difficult for me to hold onto.

A few mornings ago, while sipping my coffee and hoping to God my daughter would stay asleep just a little longer, I had an epiphany: I needed to find a way to embrace the mundane through Rest. This past Spring, one of my good friends casually mentioned she was reading a book called The Sabbath by Abraham Joshua Heschel. She’s the type of person who takes a cupcake-and-rainbows approach to life, always so positive and collected—something I’ve always admired. Without hesitation, I put in a request at my local library (which btw now has an app—isn’t that wild?!) and when I got my copy, I devoured it in a single day. Yes, it was that good.

Wanting to soak up as much as I could, I read it again and even listened to it on Audible. The book delves deeply into the concept of rest through the lens of the Sabbath. Even if you’re not religious, the insights are incredibly profound and accessible to anyone. It’s one of those books where I wanted to highlight every single word to share with you. Since I can’t do that (though I highly recommend reading it—it’s that impactful), I thought I’d share a few key takeaways that have resonated with me and have become central to my life.

True Rest is not found in material things but in time itself, which holds the essence of eternity.

There are no two hours alike, every hour is unique and the one given at the moment is endlessly precious.

When I read this, it struck a chord with me. Just a few weeks ago, I was lamenting how much I despise summer, even sharing seven reasons why it's my least favorite season. Since June 1, I've been counting down the days until summer ends. Every morning, I wake up and think, "Only X days left of summer." I convinced myself that if I just keep my head down and push through, this season will fly by. And it has. June and July passed in a blur. Then, a few days ago, I was hit with the realization that it’s already August. Instead of feeling the relief I expected, I felt sadness. Sadness that I had spent a whole season complaining, wishing it away, and not stopping to notice what was happening around me. I failed to appreciate how each hour is unique.

A moment captured in St. Albans, Queens. Liming in the backyard with family & friends.

As a parent, this realization hit me especially hard. While I was just crossing days off my calendar and waiting for the next day to come and go, my daughter was having the time of her life. She was growing, hitting new milestones, and I wasn’t paying attention. Our routine is so predictable that I can almost forecast our days and weeks with precision. But in doing so, it’s easy to overlook those endlessly precious hours.

Here’s what my typical 24 hours look like: Wake up, get dressed, drop my daughter off at daycare, catch the train to work, eat lunch, have meetings, leave early for daycare pickup, come home to quickly cook dinner, squeeze in a workout, give my daughter a bath, put her to bed, and maybe catch a quick episode of Seinfeld before I crash, only to wake up and do it all over again. borinngggg!

Here’s how I imagine my daughter’s day from her point of view:

Wake up with a smile, excited to see mommy and daddy. 

Give daddy a big hug and kiss as he heads off to work. 

Dance with mommy to "Baby Shark" and giggle as she tickles me. 

Eat breakfast, then maybe a snack—oooh, hopefully, mommy gives me yogurt. 

Time to leave. Let me put my shoes on.

Pray with mommy and sing a song. Off to the car. 

Today, I want to walk down the stairs by myself. 

Ooh, mommy is letting me bring my toy to daycare. 

Say goodbye to mommy and hello to all my friends.

What are we doing today? It’s water day! Splash, splash! Let’s race! There’s a new girl today—hi! 

Eat lunch, eat a snack. Ooh, strawberries, they taste so good. 

Potty time. I’m so proud I can potty all by myself now.

Time to say goodbye to my friends. I can’t wait to see mommy when she picks me up. 

Hi mommy!! Run, mommy, run! I want to get to the car first. 

Mommy always plays my favorite songs in the car. We’re home! Hi daddy! 

Eat dinner. Maybe I can have ice cream. 

Let’s watch Ms. Rachel! Dance with mommy and daddy. 

Oh, it’s bath time. Yay, bubble, bubbles, bubbles! 

Daddy combs my hair. I love my new unicorn pajamas. Okay, bedtime. 

Goodnight, mommy. Goodnight, daddy. 

What a fun day! I can’t wait for tomorrow.

Doesn’t that sound so much better than the version of my day? My daughter, at just two years old, instinctively understands that no two hours are the same, and each one is unique and precious. I believe all children understand this inherently. So what happens when we grow up? Well at some point, we become more concerned with things rather than time. We focus on accumulating more, thinking we’ll become more. But now I understand that time is the heart of existence, and how we spend it, and what we choose to spend it on, is truly precious.

So yes, every hour is unique and endlessly precious. I’m taking this to heart this month. Instead of keeping my head down, just trying to get through the day, I’m really making an effort to embrace every hour.

True Rest is an art, a way of shaping time with intention and purpose.

In 2018, I felt the weight of a broken spirit, driven by an insatiable need to be the best at everything—the best employee, the best friend, the best at every role I played. My days were filled with networking events, part-time gigs to earn extra money, and long hours at work. I was doing it all because I didn’t want to miss out on any opportunity that might help me get "more out of life." I was chasing after connections and achievements, thinking they would put me in the right position to succeed. I didn't want to stop, but when I got home, I was completely drained and my spirit was running on empty.

Despite all my efforts, I didn’t feel like any of it mattered, and I couldn’t understand why I was pushing myself so hard or what I was trying to prove. I was so focused on what I thought I needed to really enjoy life that I lost sight of what truly mattered.

One day during my lunch break, I went to sit in the park to eat, and that’s when it all hit me. I realized why I was getting sick more often, wasn’t sleeping or eating well, and was constantly in my head, obsessing over my performance and what others thought of me. My spirit was broken. The realization was a hard pill to swallow, but it was also a relief. I finally understood what was happening, and I knew that the only way to heal was through Rest.

From that point on, I began to seriously consider what Rest meant to me—not just in the present as a single woman, but also in my future. As the seasons of my life have changed, so has my understanding of Rest. When I got married, I had to rediscover Rest not only for myself but also for my husband. Then, when I became a mom, I had to do it all over again.

All week we may ponder and worry whether we are rich or poor, whether we succeed or fail in our occupations; whether we accomplish or fall short of reaching our goals. But who could feel distressed when gazing at spectral glimpses of eternity, except to feel startled at the vanity of being so distressed?

Too often, this vital aspect of life gets pushed to the sidelines. Things get in the way—schedules, goals, people. But I'm so grateful that I'm returning to this lifestyle of Rest.

True Rest is not an interlude but the climax of living. We Rest for the sake of life.

Isn’t that a beautiful perspective? I’m learning that Rest goes beyond just relaxation. It’s more than self-care as we often define it today. Rest is the heart of existence. For me, today, Rest means being mindful of my day—not to conquer it, but to truly experience it. It’s about honoring the mundane. I’m always in a rush—I’m a New Yorker—and slowing down is really hard sometimes. I plan my days with the intention of what I need to get done, but seldom with the intention of what I want to experience or how I want to feel. That’s what needs to change.

I don't have all the answers. Even as I write this, I'm not entirely sure what I'm trying to convey. All I know is that it's time for me to find and honor true Rest, and maybe you're feeling the same way.

I’ll leave you with this:

How should we weigh the difference between the Sabbath and the other days of the week? When a day like Wednesday arrives, the hours are blank, and unless we lend significance to them, they remain without character. The hours of the seventh day are significant in themselves; their significance and beauty do not depend on any work, profit or progress we may achieve. They have the beauty of grandeur ... a rest in love and generosity, a true and genuine rest, a rest that yields peace and serenity, tranquility and security, a perfect rest with which Thou art pleased.

—Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath.