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Rest Is an Inclusion Issue: Why Recovery Shouldn't Require an Explanation

A watercolor-style graphic in calming shades of green, teal, and cream features the message, "REST IS NOT A REWARD. It's part of inclusion." Beneath the headline, smaller text reads, "Empathy is the foundation of inclusive culture." On the right, a peaceful landscape shows a wooden bench beside a tranquil lake under a large leafy tree. Along the bottom are four illustrated icons labeled: Different minds, Varied bodies, Real recovery, and Belonging for all, reinforcing that rest and inclusion support people with diverse experiences and needs.

As the Summer holiday break approaches, one question seems to come up in nearly every conversation:


"What are you doing with your time off?"


The answers are often filled with exciting plans—vacations, family gatherings, home projects, adventures, and celebrations.


But there's another answer we don't hear nearly often enough.


"I'm resting."


And that answer deserves just as much celebration.


Not Everyone Needs More Activity


Our culture often treats time off as something that must be optimized.


We feel pressure to make memories.

Cross things off our to-do lists.

Visit every relative.

Take the perfect vacation.

Return to work with stories to tell.


Some people genuinely enjoy spending their breaks that way—and that's wonderful.


But for many people, especially those living with disabilities, chronic illnesses, neurodivergence, or mental health conditions, a break serves a very different purpose.


It's an opportunity to recover.


Recovery may look like:


  • Sleeping more than usual because your body finally has permission to.

  • Giving your nervous system a break from constant sensory input.

  • Managing pain without having to immediately prepare for another workday.

  • Letting your brain slow down after weeks or months of masking.

  • Existing without feeling like you constantly need to prove your productivity.


None of those things are "doing nothing."

They're essential.


The Invisible Work Many People Never See


One of the biggest misconceptions about disability is that people only experience challenges during visible moments.


The reality is much different.


Many people spend enormous amounts of energy simply navigating environments that weren't designed with them in mind.


That energy goes toward things like:


  • Planning accessible transportation

  • Managing chronic pain

  • Conserving physical energy

  • Navigating inaccessible spaces

  • Processing overwhelming sensory environments

  • Masking disabilities or neurodivergent traits

  • Advocating for accommodations

  • Deciding whether it's safe to disclose a disability


Even after the workday ends, that work often continues.


So when a holiday break arrives, many people aren't looking for another adventure.

They're looking for a chance to finally exhale.


Rest Is More Than Self-Care—It's Inclusion


When organizations talk about disability inclusion, conversations often begin with accessibility.


Accessible entrances.

Assistive technology.

Reasonable accommodations.


Those things matter tremendously.


But true inclusion goes further.


It asks whether people have the psychological safety to be honest about what they need.


Can someone say: "I'm exhausted." Without being viewed as less committed?

Can someone use vacation days to recover instead of traveling without feeling guilty?

Can employees take breaks before reaching complete burnout?

Can leaders model healthy boundaries instead of rewarding constant availability?


Real inclusion creates space for people to be human.


That means creating:


  • Space to rest.

  • Space to recover.

  • Space to say, "I don't have the capacity today."

  • Space to recharge without needing to justify it.


Because inclusion isn't just about helping people access work.


It's about helping people sustain it.


The Most Important Lesson I've Learned


One lesson has stayed with me throughout my career and my own disability journey:

No one is going to protect your well-being more than you will.


That isn't selfish.

It's self-leadership.


You are the expert on your body.

Your energy.

Your limitations.

Your recovery.

Your capacity.


No manager, coworker, client, or organization can fully understand what your body or mind needs.

Only you can.


Learning to honor those needs isn't weakness.

It's wisdom.


We Need to Normalize Recovery


Burnout has become so common that many workplaces almost treat it as a badge of honor.


We celebrate long hours.

We admire constant availability.

We praise people for pushing through exhaustion.


But burnout doesn't create better employees.

It creates depleted ones.


Guilt doesn't produce meaningful work.

Recovery does.


Creativity often returns after rest.

Patience grows when we're restored.

Empathy becomes easier when we're not running on empty.


The best ideas don't always appear while we're sprinting.

Sometimes they arrive during the pause.


You Don't Need to Earn Rest


If your holiday break consists of traveling the world, I hope it's incredible.


If it consists of making memories with friends and family, I hope you cherish every moment.


But if your plans involve a blanket, your favorite television show, sleeping in, playing with your children, reading a book, spending quiet time with your pets, or simply doing very little at all—


You're not wasting your break.

You're using it exactly the way your body and mind need.


And that is enough.


A Final Thought


Perhaps one of the most inclusive things we can do—for ourselves and for one another—is to stop measuring the value of rest by how productive it makes us afterward.


Rest has value simply because we are human.


No explanation required.


Whether you're preparing for new opportunities, new challenges, or simply another busy season, I hope you give yourself permission to pause.


Because sometimes the most important thing we accomplish isn't another project.

Sometimes it's remembering that we deserve care, too.


And that may be the most inclusive lesson of all.

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