Rejuvenated

We talk about productivity as if it should be always on. As if humans were meant to hum along at a steady frequency, always turned up to maximum setting.

I think the truth is simpler and far more forgiving: we’re built like the natural world we live in. We dim, we brighten, ebb and flow like the tide.

I learned this the hard way after coming back from vacation. I expected to return refreshed, ready to leap back into writing, work, life. Instead, I came home bone‑tired. Not the kind of tired a good night’s sleep fixes. It was the deep fog that makes even simple tasks feel like wading through wet sand.

I tried to push through. I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and attempted to force words onto the page. But productivity born from exhaustion rarely produces anything worth keeping.

So I slumped. For weeks. I felt guilty about it.

And then, without warning, the fog cleared.

My energy came back not gradually, but all at once, like someone had flipped a switch.

The writing that felt impossible was suddenly effortless.

Maybe human energy isn’t supposed to be constant.

Solar panels don’t produce when the sun fades.

Wind turbines don’t spin on still days.

Even the ocean rests between waves.

Why do we expect ourselves to be any different?

Maybe we need still days as part of the rhythm. Maybe the quiet, unproductive stretches are what make the productive days so intense. Maybe the slump isn’t a problem to solve, but a time to relax.

Energy returns. It always does.

And when it does, it’s stronger for having rested.