For a lot of men, rest without guilt feels unfamiliar, even uncomfortable. Sitting still can trigger the urge to justify, explain, or prove that we’ve earned the right to stop. That reaction usually isn’t about laziness or lack of discipline. It’s learned early, reinforced over time, and carried quietly into adulthood.
Many of us grew up with some version of the message that idle hands are dangerous. If you weren’t doing something, you should be. If you were quiet, you were probably up to no good. If you had energy, it needed to be directed somewhere useful.
Go outside. Go to the playground. Fix something. Build something. Help your father. Find a tool. Stay busy.
Rest wasn’t framed as healthy or necessary. It was framed as suspicious.
So we learned early on that stillness needed a purpose, and downtime needed supervision. That belief doesn’t just disappear when we grow up. It settles into the body.
I know this pattern well.
During my marriage, I spent a lot of time in the basement. It was my space. My decompression zone. One of my favourite ways to unwind was playing Railroad Tycoon. Nothing secretive. Nothing unhealthy. Just a game that helped my nervous system slow down. But when my wife would walk into the room, I’d jump.
Not because I was doing anything wrong, but because my body reacted as if I’d been caught. I’d immediately feel the urge to explain myself:
“I was just taking a break.” “I’ve been working all day.” “I needed to shut my brain off.” None of that was asked for.
That reaction didn’t come from the moment. It came from years of learning that rest had to be justified, earned, or approved.
Why Rest Without Guilt Is Hard for Men
For many men, rest still carries a faint scent of guilt.
If you’re not producing, you’re wasting time.
If you’re not improving something, you’re falling behind.
If you’re lying down in the afternoon, you’d better have a reason.
So rest becomes something we explain instead of something we allow.
You see it in small ways:
- Reaching for your phone when someone enters the room so you look busy.
- Saying “long week” before admitting you’re taking a nap.
- Calling rest “recovery” or “planning” so it sounds productive.
- Feeling uneasy when someone asks, “What are you doing?” and the honest answer is “Nothing.”
That unease isn’t weakness. It’s conditioning.
Choosing Rest on Purpose
Here’s the part I want to name clearly: this can change.
Today, I rest when I want.
I have a firm boundary around my weekends. Once Friday night hits, my laptop stays closed. No SEO work. No Board work. No “just checking one thing.”
Emails pile up. Messages wait. And the world keeps spinning.
Weekends are mine to rest and recuperate.
Sunday afternoons especially have become sacred. After I do my taxi duties with my brother, the rest of the day is slow and intentionally uneventful. A lazy afternoon. Quiet time. And lately, an afternoon nap has become a regular feature.
No explanation required.
That boundary didn’t come naturally. It came from learning, sometimes the hard way, that burnout doesn’t announce itself politely. And that rest delayed is often rest denied.
Rest Isn’t Something You Owe an Explanation For
You don’t owe anyone a justification for sitting still.
Not your partner.
Not your family.
Not your clients.
Not the voice in your head that still believes idle hands are trouble.
Rest isn’t laziness. It isn’t avoidance. And it certainly isn’t a moral failure.
It’s maintenance.
And yes, if you’re reading this on a Sunday, it was published thanks to the small miracle of WordPress scheduling. Even rest needs a little structure sometimes.
Now if you’ll excuse me, there may be a nap with my name on it.