There was a phase where rest made me anxious.
And progress never felt enough.
If I enjoyed a slow evening, guilt followed.
If I worked hard all day, life felt distant.
I lived in between those two emotions for a long time.
Pulled.
Confused.
Tired in a strange way.
That tension is what pushed me to rethink everything.
I thought growth meant constant pressure
For years, growth felt like a rule.
A responsibility.
Something I had to prove — to myself, to others, to time.
Rest felt irresponsible.
Enjoyment felt like cheating.
I didn’t grow because I was curious.
I grew because I was afraid of standing still.
And fear-based growth is loud.
Demanding.
Never satisfied.
Punchy takeaway: If growth feels heavy, it’s probably driven by fear, not intention.
Enjoyment alone didn’t feel right either
Here’s the part people don’t like to admit.
Pure enjoyment gets boring.
Too many lazy days made me restless.
Too much comfort dulled my mind.
Pleasure without direction started feeling empty.
By Sunday night, I felt bloated — not refreshed.
That’s when it clicked.
Enjoyment feels deeper when it rests on effort.
Not exhaustion.
Effort.
Punchy takeaway: Enjoyment feels meaningful when it has something solid beneath it.
I stopped forcing balance
I used to chase balance like a perfect formula.
Equal hours.
Perfect routines.
Neatly divided days.
That never worked.
Life doesn’t stay even.
Energy doesn’t behave mathematically.
So I stopped forcing balance and started listening.
Some weeks are for pushing.
Some are for slowing down.
Some are just for staying afloat.
Balance isn’t daily.
It’s seasonal.
Punchy takeaway: Balance isn’t equal effort every day. It’s honest adjustment over time.
I changed what growth means to me
This shift was quiet but powerful.
Growth doesn’t always look like doing more.
Sometimes it looks like:
• Not reacting
• Saying no
• Sleeping early
• Letting an idea mature
• Choosing calm over speed
Earlier, I ignored these.
Now, I count them.
And suddenly, life felt less aggressive.
Punchy takeaway: If growth only means addition, burnout is guaranteed.
I stopped treating enjoyment as a reward
This one mattered.
Earlier, enjoyment was something I “earned” after work.
If the work wasn’t enough, enjoyment felt illegal.
Now, enjoyment is part of the system.
A slow cup of tea.
A walk without purpose.
Music without multitasking.
These moments don’t interrupt growth.
They protect it.
Punchy takeaway: Enjoyment isn’t a reward. It’s maintenance.
I let my energy decide the day
Some days I’m sharp.
Some days I’m dull.
Earlier, I fought that.
Now, I work with it.
High-energy days are for thinking and creating.
Low-energy days are for organising and resting.
Nothing forced.
Nothing dramatic.
Just cooperation.
Punchy takeaway: Life gets easier when effort follows energy.
I stopped measuring enjoyment in outcomes
Not every good moment needs to produce something.
A peaceful evening doesn’t need to improve my future.
A conversation doesn’t need to be useful.
Rest doesn’t need justification.
Some things matter because they make you feel human again.
Punchy takeaway: If you try to optimise joy, you’ll lose it.
Growth became quieter — and stronger
Here’s the strange part.
Once I allowed enjoyment without guilt, growth accelerated.
Focus lasted longer.
Resistance reduced.
Ideas came without force.
I wasn’t dragging myself forward anymore.
I was returning willingly.
Punchy takeaway: Growth moves faster when it isn’t chased.
The question I ask now
I don’t ask,
Am I doing enough?
I ask,
Can I live like this for the next five years?
That question filters everything.
Habits.
Goals.
Pace.
If the answer is no, it’s not growth.
It’s pressure wearing a mask.
Punchy takeaway: Sustainable growth always feels breathable.
A simple, testable action
For the next 7 days, do this every night.
Write one line answering:
“Did today ask more effort from me, or more rest?”
No judgment.
Just awareness.
At the end of the week, look at the pattern.
Not to fix it.
Just to understand it.
If this felt close to home, there’s more on Prosnic.
We don’t glorify burnout.
We don’t escape into comfort either.
We try to grow —
without forgetting how to enjoy being alive.