A few weeks ago, I wrote about the meaning of Child’s Pose in yoga, a posture that embodies rest, recharge, and surrender. It’s a gentle reminder that pausing is just as essential as the action-filled moments in our lives. But this week, while on vacation in the heart of nature, I found myself face-to-face with a familiar struggle: giving myself permission to rest. To believe, deeply and fully, that I deserve it. And what began as a simple getaway is becoming a deeper lesson in the art of rest, one I thought I had already learned.

In our fast-paced world, there’s an unspoken pressure to always be doing. We’re taught that productivity is the gold standard, the proof of our value. Stepping back, from work, from creativity, from constant output, can feel like falling behind. Like we’re failing to contribute. But I’m realizing more than ever that rest isn’t just a pause, it’s part of the process. It’s where the seeds of inspiration begin to stir.

Child’s Pose, or Balasana, invites us to fold inward and retreat, to reconnect with our inner world. It’s a posture of humility and trust, a chance to lay down the burden of doing and simply be. And yet, how often do we truly allow ourselves that grace? How often do we silence the voice that whispers, you should be doing more?

Here in nature, surrounded by tall trees and soft winds, I’m reminded of how naturally the world rests. The ocean doesn’t force its waves. Flowers don’t rush to bloom. There is a rhythm to it all, a dance between stillness and growth. And in this unhurried space, I’m beginning to feel that same rhythm within myself.

I’ve come to see that creativity doesn’t thrive under pressure. It doesn’t emerge because we force it to. It blossoms when we give it room to breathe. To stretch. To play. To wander. And rest, true rest, is what clears the path for inspiration to flow again.

Still, the guilt sneaks in. That inner critic that says I’m not doing enough. Not creating enough. Not working hard enough. But I’m learning to challenge that voice, to soften it. Because just like winter nourishes spring, rest is what allows our creative work to flourish.

Rest isn’t a sign of weakness or laziness, it’s a sacred part of the cycle. In these quiet moments, I’m remembering forgotten truths. That new ideas often come in stillness. That fun and freedom are fertile grounds for inspiration. That we don’t have to earn rest, we’re already worthy of it.

This time in nature is teaching me that rest is an invitation to lean more deeply into life—to breathe, to soften, to find balance.

As I return to my work and my practice, I carry with me a deeper sense of trust. A knowing that pausing doesn’t take me further from my purpose, it brings me closer to it. And maybe that’s the real wisdom of Child’s Pose. It teaches us to pause, to listen, to let go, and to remember that in that rest, something beautiful is always growing and we’ re making space for what’s next to bloom.