Four-day weekends.
They seem like mythical creatures we only dream of, right? Rare, elusive, almost like they don’t exist.
One thing I cherished most about the military? They took rest seriously. ??
Every month, we had three- and four-day weekends—natural rhythms of work and rest, with generous time off.
But, of course, there was a balance. When duty called, we answered—sometimes 12 months at a time. But when you weren’t “deployed,” you rested. You breathed. You got to be human again.
And then I entered civilian life. That rhythm? Gone. It wasn’t like deployment, with a clear start and finish. No, it was like being “always deployed.” Always on. Always running on fumes.
Vacations? They became a joke. Something for the “weak.” People bragged about not taking a day off in years as if that made them stronger. And I felt it, too—more tired, more anxious, more disconnected at home.
Leaving the military felt like falling into a new deployment, but this time, without relief, without rest, without an “end in sight.” It felt like a slow war of attrition on the soul.
That’s why I’m passionate about Days of Rest. ??
Every second Friday of the month, we step away, and every month, a long weekend is a guarantee. Sometimes, the stars align, or we move things around and get those rare four-day weekends.
Today is one of those rare four-day weekends, and I’m grateful. Grateful that we’ve built these rhythms of rest into the work.
If you’re feeling worn down, you’re not alone. It’s okay to take a break. You’re worth it. There’s always hope.
There is virtue in work and there is virtue in rest. Use both and overlook neither.
stay Supered?,
& never, EVER stop believing
-matt
