The Productivity Paradox: Why Rest Can Feel So Unsettling

After a really busy few weeks I recently gave myself a full day off to lounge around, full permission to do nothing. I expected it to feel amazing, but as the day went on I started to feel a cloud of low mood and guilt? I needed this rest but I felt bad for not ‘achieving’ anything, even though I know the importance of rest and I had giving myself a permission slip for this. It didnt’ feel good to me. And yet rest is really important and it’s something I always encourage people to do.

This got me thinking about the push and pull between what’s happening inside us and the pressures we face from the world around us. It’s something that I think many of us struggle with: that strange, unsettled feeling that comes up after a full day of rest, even when we know we’ve more than earned it.

It’s odd, isn’t it? You take a day to slow down, put your feet up, maybe even do nothing at all, and instead of feeling refreshed, you’re left with a low mood or a nagging sense of unease. Almost like guilt for not ‘achieving’ something.

We hear it all the time (and I say it): rest is important, we need to recharge, we can’t pour from an empty cup. But when the quiet comes, some of us feel less than. And it makes me wonder, is that because we’ve tied our worth to what we do each day? Or is it as simple as our bodies missing the natural boost that comes from moving, stretching, and being active?

Part of it, I think, comes from the culture we live in. Productivity is praised, almost worshipped. We’re measured by how much we get done, how busy we are, how hard we push. But I started to think, maybe it’s not just culture, maybe there’s also something more human, even primal, about our drive to “do.”

The real question is: how do we hold both truths? How do we honour that natural drive to create and achieve, while also allowing ourselves real rest without slipping into guilt or self-criticism?

That’s what I want to explore here, drawing on psychology, a little bit of evolutionary insight, and some gentler, more Eastern ways of looking at rest and balance. My hope is that it helps us all find a softer, kinder way of being with ourselves when we stop ‘doing’ and simply are.

The Deep Roots of Our Drive: Psychology and Evolution

It’s easy to think that our obsession with productivity is just a modern problem, born out of industrialisation, capitalism, and the constant rush of today’s world. But if we look more closely, the drive to achieve, to “do,” and to feel good about our accomplishments actually runs much deeper. It’s wired into both our psychology and our evolutionary story.

From a psychological point of view, Martin Seligman’s PERMA model is a useful lens. It outlines five key ingredients for a happy, balanced life: Positive Emotions, Engagement, Relationships, Meaning, and Accomplishment. That last one , accomplishment, is especially relevant here. When we tick something off the list, whether it’s big or small, it sparks satisfaction, boosts self-esteem, and motivates us to keep going. It’s not just a fleeting high; it’s part of our brain’s reward system. The same goes for “flow” states – when we’re so absorbed in a task that time seems to vanish. That sense of engagement makes us feel alive, lifts our mood, and can even protect against depression. And then there’s meaning: when our efforts connect to a bigger purpose, we feel stronger, more grounded, and more capable. Our brains, it seems, are designed to take pleasure in being active and productive.

Something I recently heard Dr. K (Alok Kanojia – Healthy Gamer) talk about on the ‘know thyself’ podcast (highly recommend) really stuck with me. He explained that when we complete a day that’s been hard work, our brains often release serotonin, not just dopamine. The difference matters. Dopamine gives us a rush of excitement and anticipation, the thrill of chasing something new. Serotonin, on the other hand, gives us a quieter, steadier sense of satisfaction. It’s the “I did it” chemical. And interestingly, we can get that serotonin boost even when the thing we did wasn’t enjoyable in itself, like finishing the laundry or writing that report you’ve been putting off. This helps explain why being productive feels grounding, not just exciting.

But why are we built this way in the first place? That’s where evolution comes in. Human behaviour is shaped by motives that helped our ancestors survive and thrive. Two stand out here: Status and Play. In the past, achieving status meant better access to food, safety, and partners…survival, in other words. Play, meanwhile, wasn’t just for fun; it was how people learned new skills, adapted, and stayed sharp. Striving, learning, and contributing to the group brought not just practical benefits but also recognition and belonging. Those behaviours were rewarded and reinforced over generations.

There’s also something deeply human about wanting to grow, to stretch ourselves, push boundaries, and become more than we were yesterday. Even though we’re not chasing mammoths or building fires anymore, that inner drive to create, contribute, and feel capable is still very much alive.

So when we feel that little spark of well-being after a productive day, it’s not just a cultural pressure or a modern obsession. It’s a blend of psychology, biology, and ancient wiring. Our sense of worth has long been tied to what we do. And while that can sometimes trip us up, it also speaks to how deeply human it is to want to move, grow, and achieve.

Eastern Wisdom: Finding Peace in the Present Moment

While Western culture often celebrates striving, progress, and constant achievement, Eastern philosophies invite us to slow down and discover meaning in simply being. This perspective can feel like a breath of fresh air when we’re battling that inner restlessness that comes with stopping or taking time out.

One of my favourite Zen sayings is: ‘Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.‘ At first, it almost sounds underwhelming. What’s the point of spiritual growth if we’re still doing the same mundane tasks? But the wisdom lies not in the task itself, but in how we experience it.

Before enlightenment, we might chop wood or carry water with our minds elsewhere, distracted, frustrated, wishing we were doing something else. After enlightenment, the actions don’t change, but the inner experience does. The mind becomes still, present, and engaged. Suddenly, the everyday act of making tea, washing dishes, or even folding laundry becomes enough in itself. Ordinary tasks take on a quiet sacredness.

This challenges the belief that our worth is tied to outcomes. Instead, it points us back to the process, and how we show up in it. When we approach even the smallest task with awareness, patience, and presence, it becomes meaningful. That shift in perspective can soften the guilt or unworthiness we sometimes feel when we’re ‘not producing.’

Taoism adds another layer of insight here with the balance of yin and yang. Yin represents stillness, rest, and receptivity – yang represents movement, action, and energy. Neither is better than the other – both are essential. Too much yang, and we burn out. Too much yin, and we stagnate. The wisdom lies in flow, in knowing when to act and when to pause. Rest, then, isn’t wasted time. It’s yin balancing yang, the quiet counterpart that allows life to move in harmony.

From this perspective, that low mood we sometimes feel during rest may simply be our minds struggling to let go of ‘doing.’ Eastern philosophy invites us to lean into it instead of fighting it. To sit with the stillness, notice what arises, and remember that our worth isn’t earned through constant output. It’s already here, in the present moment.

When I gave myself a “day off” and felt that low mood creeping in, I decided to write a list of everything I had accomplished that week. Seeing it all on paper reminded me that it was completely okay to take a break and allow myself to rest. Just looking at the list lifted my spirits immediately and allowed me to truly enjoy the downtime.

The Body-Mind Connection: Why Rest Can Feel Like a Slump

Let’s go back to that unsettling feeling, the low mood that can appear after a day of rest, even following a productive week. Is it really about some deeper unworthiness, or is there a more physical explanation at work? Research suggests it’s probably a mix of both, with the body-mind connection playing a key role.

Looking at the PERMA model and our evolutionary drives, it’s clear how strongly our brains are wired for accomplishment and purpose. When we’re not actively ‘doing,’ that reward system, fuelled by dopamine, isn’t as engaged. That doesn’t mean we’re failing or unworthy, it’s just a temporary disconnect from the sources of validation and internal reward we’re used to.

Physical movement also has a huge impact on mood. Modern life keeps us sitting for long stretches, and studies consistently show that high levels of sedentary behaviour are linked to low mood, stress, and disrupted sleep. Prolonged inactivity can even increase the risk of depressive symptoms. It’s a cycle: feeling low can make us move less, which in turn deepens that sense of malaise.

The good news is that even small amounts of movement make a real difference. Exercise isn’t just about fitness, it’s a powerful emotional tool. Movement releases endorphins, lifts mood, relieves stress, and gives us a healthy outlet for emotions. So, if a rest day means very little activity, it’s possible your body is simply missing those mood-boosting benefits.

Rest itself is essential, but it’s about balance and quality. While our culture glorifies constant busyness, real rest supports physical and mental restoration. It boosts concentration, memory, immunity, and reduces stress. The trick is to see rest not as doing nothing, but as an active process of replenishment — a way to allow your body and mind to recover so you can return to life with energy and focus.

So that low mood after a day off? It’s not a sign that you’re failing or unworthy. It’s a gentle nudge from your body and mind, a reminder that a little movement, even light activity, can help you feel fully restored. It’s about finding balance between ‘doing’ and ‘being,’ so both your physical and psychological needs are met.

Finding Your Balance: A Path to Harmonious Living

The paradox of feeling low after a day of rest, even after a productive week, is a deeply human experience. It’s not a flaw or a sign of unworthiness, but rather a signal from the complex interplay of our psychology, our evolutionary wiring, and the rhythms of our body.

We’ve seen how our brains are wired for accomplishment, how dopamine and serotonin reward us when we achieve and contribute. This drive, shaped by evolution to help us survive and thrive, is powerful, but it can leave us feeling uneasy when the “doing” pauses, even for a short time.

Eastern wisdom offers another lens, reminding us that meaning isn’t found in escaping the mundane but in fully embracing it. The Zen phrase “chop wood, carry water” points us toward the possibility of presence in every task, however ordinary. Taoism, too, teaches us to honour the balance of yin and yang, reminding us that stillness and activity are not in conflict but in harmony with one another.

And then there’s the body, always speaking to us. A full day of stillness might deprive us of the natural lift that movement brings. Rest matters deeply, but true rest is more than doing nothing; it’s a process of replenishment. Movement and stillness, activity and rest, they work best in partnership.

So how do we live this paradox with more ease? It starts with awareness and gentleness toward ourselves. We can acknowledge the natural human urge to be productive without letting it define our worth. We can bring mindfulness into both work and rest, finding value in the process as much as the outcome. And we can make rest more nourishing by weaving in gentle movement , a walk, a stretch, or maybe just challenging the feeling or the thoughts by journalling.

In the end, productivity doesn’t have to be a relentless grind. It can be a dance between doing and being, effort and ease. When we listen to both our minds and our bodies, we open the way to a more balanced, grounded, and fulfilling life.

Take good care

Lora