I Was Rested. But I Wasn't Restored.

What four days in the mountains taught me about the kind of rest

I didn't know I needed.

Last Thursday, I left Florida for a four-day retreat in the

Blue Ridge Mountains of Georgia.

A one-hour flight to Atlanta.

A two-hour drive deeper and deeper into the mountains.

And eventually, a beautiful house tucked into the middle of the woods with a

waterfall just outside.

There were six of us women.

Most of us didn't know each other.

We came from different places, different lives and different circumstances.

And we were all carrying different things.

Not in our suitcases.

The other stuff.

The things women get really good at carrying.

Families.

Careers.

Businesses.

Schedules.

Other people's needs.

Worry.

Grief.

Expectations.

The never-ending mental list running quietly in the background.

We came carrying different loads.

But we came for the same reason.

To pause.

The Interesting Part? I Wasn't Exhausted.

Before I left, I was actually doing pretty well.

After months of travel, I was back into my normal routine.

I was consistently strength training again.

I was averaging 6,000–10,000 steps a day.

I was preparing my own food.

And I was sleeping 7½–8½ uninterrupted hours most nights.

My client schedule was even lighter than usual.

On paper?

I was doing all the right things.

I was rested.

But somewhere over those four days, I realized something:

I'm not sure I was restored.

And I'm beginning to think there's an important difference.

Sometimes Sleep Isn't the Only Kind of Rest We Need

At the retreat, we talked.

We practiced yoga.

We meditated.

We practiced mindfulness.

We spent time outside.

We listened to the waterfall.

And sometimes...

We were simply quiet.

Nobody needed me to fix anything.

Nobody needed an answer.

There wasn't somewhere else I needed to be.

For four days, I had permission to stop doing and simply be.

That's harder than it sounds for some of us.

Especially women who have spent decades taking care of people, building careers, raising families, running businesses and becoming very good at getting things done.

We know how to keep going.

We know how to push through.

We know how to carry things.

Sometimes we're so good at carrying the load that we don't realize how heavy it's become.

Until we put some of it down.

Maybe the Pause Belongs on the Calendar Too

Here's something else I've been thinking about.

I booked this retreat last fall.

I had absolutely no idea what the following spring and summer would bring.

I couldn't have known how much travel there would be.

How much life would happen.

How many times plans would change.

Or how much I would need these four days by the time August arrived.

And I wonder...

If someone had asked me a few weeks ago to leave my life for four days and go sit quietly in the mountains, would I have said yes?

I'm not sure.

There probably would have been a dozen reasons why it wasn't a good time.

And that's exactly why I'm glad I put it on the calendar before I knew I needed it.

We schedule doctor's appointments.

Work meetings.

Kids.

Grandkids.

Clients.

Workouts.

Hair appointments.

Vacations.

Everyone else's needs.

Maybe we need to start scheduling space, too.

Not because we've earned it.

Not because we've finally reached exhaustion.

Not because something is wrong.

But because restoration is part of taking care of ourselves.

I came home rested.

But more importantly, I think I came home a little more restored.

I'm still figuring out exactly what that means.

And maybe I don't need to figure it all out yet.

Maybe that's part of the pause, too.

Not immediately turning every experience into a lesson.

Not rushing to decide what comes next.

Just giving ourselves enough quiet to hear what our lives — and maybe our bodies — have been trying to tell us.

So I'll leave you with the question I've been asking myself:

What restores you?

Not what distracts you.

Not what helps you escape for an hour.

Not even necessarily what helps you sleep.

What brings you back to yourself?

And when was the last time you made space for it?

Maybe the pause belongs on your calendar, too. ❤️

— Deb