Permission to Rest: Why Rest Is Not Withdrawal but a Return to Wholeness
- Dr. Kidi

- Dec 23, 2025
- 8 min read
Updated: Dec 24, 2025

Segment 2: Returning to Wholeness
Episode 5: Permission to Rest
Your worth was never meant to be earned through exhaustion. - Dr. Kidi
Reclaiming Rest
During my residency at the University of Southern California, back before there were work- hour regulations for medical residents, it was not uncommon for me to work two days straight. At the end of those shifts, I would gather whatever energy I had left to drive my old red Honda to my sister Guenet’s home in Claremont. There I would plop onto a bed and not move again until morning.
One day, I did not make it.
During the hour-long drive, my body made the decision for me. I pulled over somewhere in East Los Angeles and fell asleep in the car. I woke up disoriented by the morning light, got myself together, and returned to the hospital.
That was not rest.
That was exhaustion, not restoration.
That was my body shutting down and taking what it needed to survive because I would not, or could not, pause to rest.
In medical residency programs, rest was treated like a reward for overwork, a weakness if you needed it, and somehow still your fault if you made an error after two sleepless days. We learned to measure devotion by how long we could endure.
When we push the body past its limits, it will eventually make us stop, not as punishment, but as protection, so it can do its work of healing and keeping us alive. So our well-being asks us to challenge the cultural story that rest is weakness and to listen when our body asks us to pause.
When it says, I am tired.
I need space.
I need breath.
Because beneath the noise rest is a way of returning to What Healing Knows.
In this season of returning to wholeness, we will explore rest not as a luxury, but as an active choice and conversation with what the body needs to come back to wholeness.
Withdrawal vs. Rest
Withdrawal and rest can look similar on the outside, but they come from very different places in the body.
Withdrawal
Withdrawal is turning away from wholeness. It happens when the mind and body no longer feel safe enough to meet the moment, so they slip into survival. It is not a character flaw. It is an unintentional escape from discomfort.
You might notice:
You feel numb, blank, or far away from your own emotions.
You want to cancel everything, not to recover, but to avoid.
You sleep or scroll for hours and still do not feel rested.
Connection feels like too much, even with people you trust.
After time alone, you feel smaller, more distant.
The result is often the same: numbness, disconnection, and a nervous system stuck in survival mode, unable to truly restore.
Rest
Rest is a return to wholeness. It begins when your mind and body feel safe enough to choose presence over pressure, even for a moment.
Rest is not an escape. It is a relationship with yourself, your breath, and the moment you are in.
It might last ninety seconds or ninety minutes. The point is not the clock. The point is listening for the body’s cues to pause, then responding in a way that restores you from the inside out.
You might notice:
You can take one deeper breath and feel a small softening.
Stillness feels supportive, not scary.
You want to slow down, but you do not want to disappear.
After a pause, you feel more present, more clear, more like yourself.
Your body feels like it is exhaling back into life.
Intentional rest brings you back to yourself, calm, clear, and able to return to life.
A simple way to check in
Ask yourself: Does this pause bring me back to myself, or take me further away?
If it brings you back, that is rest.
If it takes you further away, it may be withdrawal, which is often a sign that true rest has been postponed for too long.
When you can name what you are experiencing, you can choose your next step toward wholeness. And yes, it takes intention, especially in a world that sells urgency and alertness as virtue.
Marketing Alertness and the Cost to Our Bodies
The music rises slowly as images sharpen. A mountain looms, steep and buried in snow, so vast it feels impossible to conquer. A man stands at the edge, silent, staring down into the drop. The sound builds. A voice cuts through with conviction, the challenge of my life is to find out how far I can take it. He pulls on his goggles. The Red Bull logo sits clean across his helmet. He is ready to launch into the white.
Then comes the rush. He is in motion. Free falls, sharp turns, speed, risk. Each frame lives at the edge of human limits. Then the commercial ends with victory, sealed by a promise that lands like a chant: If you believe in it, anything is possible. Then the familiar line floats in, easy and confident: Red Bull gives you wings.
Watching it felt good, like singing along to your favorite song and becoming the singer for a moment. But the story is clean, the struggles edited, the journey buried, and the rest erased. What remains is a simple message: do not pause, keep going, and if you cannot, Red Bull will be your wings.
That message echoes across campuses, sports programs, gaming streams, Formula 1, social feeds, and checkout counters. Red Bull sold 12.670 billion cans in 2024 and reported EUR 11.227 billion in revenue. It is estimated that the company devotes 25 - 30% of revenue to marketing.
Yet the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends adolescents not to consume energy drinks, and public health sources link energy drinks to sleep disruption, anxiety, irregular heart rate, and increased blood pressure. This applies to adults too. Also, the risks can rise when stimulants like Red Bull are mixed with alcohol, cannabis, or other substances. What that means is that people feel more awake than they truly are, drink more than they intended, stay out longer than their body can handle, and underestimate their level of impairment.
This is real. I have seen what it looks like up close in emergency rooms, where an otherwise healthy person comes in with anxiety, high blood pressure, chest pain, or seizures after consuming doses of energy drinks with other substances. And none of them had the joy and confidence of the man on the edge of the mountain cliff with the promise of wings.
Red Bull is not the only thing promising wings. Parents and coaches praise pushing past the body’s request to stop. Employers reward long hours beyond the body’s capacity with bonuses. The tech world pings notifications and tunes algorithms with every scroll, offering another hit of dopamine, another reason to stay awake, another reason to stay hooked. Even the bed and the chair can invite you to linger, disguised as rest, but keeping you alert.
When we treat alertness like achievement and push past the body’s signals, we create a gap, an opportunity, for an entire industry to rush in with what looks like help. They flud the market with products that promis to stay awake longer, work longer, study longer, party longer, and still look fit. Their message is clear, ignore the body.
But the body keeps its own ledger. And when it is ignored, it will always find a louder way to speak.
What are the next steps?
When you feel the body slipping into withdrawal, begin with a gentle question: Why does this feel like too much right now?
Withdrawal is usually a sign that something has been too much for too long. It can point to overload, fear, stress, grief, loneliness, or depletion that has not been named yet. And withdrawal often feeds more withdrawal. It can darken your thoughts and pull you into isolation, even from the people who love you most, because shame tries to convince you that you are a burden. Motivation can feel far away too, because action is what sparks momentum.
So in those moments, the next step is not to push harder. It is to get support that helps you name what is driving the shutdown.
Make the first move.
Ask for help.
And if you slip, ask again, as many times as it takes, until you feel safe inside your body and in your life.
Intentional rest interrupts the spiral and tells your nervous system, you are safe enough to come back.
It lets the body gather itself.
It gives healing room to catch up.
It clears space for truth to rise.
It lets you know that your worth was never meant to be measured by how long you can last.
If I were a medical resident today, I would be spared many days of driving under the influence of sleep deprivation. Work hour limits now exist not because doctors became weaker, but because it became undeniable that exhaustion was harming both patients and the people caring for them.
But rules alone do not teach us how to listen. Many of us still carry the old training inside our nervous systems, the belief that pushing through is proof of devotion and rest is something to earn later. Healing asks for something deeper than regulation. It asks for permission, given from within.
So do not wait until your body has to force you to stop. Let your rest be chosen, not imposed.
Start small, right now.
Roll your shoulders.
Step outside.
Do the Tinfash 5C Pause for ninety seconds.
Nothing dramatic, just enough to remind your body: you are listening. You are here. You can return.
A space to breathe. A space to listen. A space to begin again.
A Moment for Meditation: Permission to restCalm and pause right here. Loosen your jaw. Drop your shoulders.
Close your eyes or soften your gaze to reduce stimulation.
Count your breath.
Create distance from the thoughts and anything pulling you forward too fast.
Choose to rest.
Journal Invitation
Writing by hand helps you slow down and listen more closely. It connects your thoughts to your body and invites honesty without the need to edit. This kind of presence supports deep healing. Your words do not need to be perfect. They only need to be yours. Let your words arrive just as they are.Where has my body been asking for rest and how have I responded?
Healing Mantra
Mantras are healing because they steady the nervous system. They interrupt spiraling thoughts and help your body feel safe enough to soften.
Choose a quiet moment. Sit, stand, or lie down. Take one slow breath in and a gentle breath out.
Repeat the mantra softly, out loud or in your mind. Let it move with your breath. No force. Just presence.
Use it as often as you need. It is not a command. It is a remembering.I am grateful for this life, and I welcome joy in.
Call to ConnectionAs a doctor and a fellow human, so much of what I know about healing has come from meaningful exchanges with people like you. Our shared stories and quiet beginnings teach me again and again that there is wisdom in simply starting.
I would love to hear your thoughts about beginning again.
I am here for you.
I am also here to grow alongside you.
If you have suggestions, ideas, or requests, share them in the comments. You can also jot down your reflections and send me a screenshot.
If you feel moved, review, rate, and share this with a friend who may be ready to reconnect with their own healing.
Visit drkidi.com for more reflections from What Healing Knows.
Follow @drkidi.healing to join a community learning to return to themselves, one gentle moment at a time.
To read my short stories go to Substack @drkidi.
With that, we have begun our healing connection.
Until next time,
Embrace the journey. Keep listening. Healing knows the way.
Love and more love,
Dr. Kidi




Your words are needed reminder. Rest isn’t running away. It’s taking care of yourself.
Thank you for sharing.
Getting older has taught me that rest is essential. Body always wins. Thank you. Great listening!
JN
We all would benefit from rest. So fitting!!