
Editor’s note: In the trifecta of good health—eat well, move often, sleep enough—sleep is the one we think of as pausing and resting. Some turn to wellness as a slowed-down way of life, some in high-paced work zones think of health as energy management (that's me), and for others, it's simply about general fitness. In all approaches, there's broad agreement on these three pillars, but I notice real differences when it comes to the concept of rest.
That's why I love this piece by Rohini Sen, where she breaks down the science of rest to show what it really means—and no, it's not just lying down and sleeping. True productivity and wellbeing often come from intentional rest—and her piece shows it's not just a luxury, but a biological necessity.
Rohini Sen, a neuroscience and psychology graduate and mental health and cognitive science researcher, has now ventured into the content space, aiming to create impactful and accessible content on mind, brain, and behavioral health. She currently works at Agatsu Foundation, a non-profit in Mumbai. You can reach her at rohinisen450@gmail.com.
PS: Here is a short feedback form to help us understand how we're doing. From day one, TBT has been published in service of our readers—and I want to ensure we're on the right track. Would you please share your thoughts? Link here. Thank you!
— Samarth Bansal (samarth@thewholetruthfoods.com)
Right before I was set to leave for my Master’s in psychology in the U.S., I joined the product team at a digital mental health company.
Our founder and CEO—think superboss—had summoned an end-of-day meeting. My colleagues and I gathered around the table, leaned into our laptops, aiming to stay engaged. Ten hours into our workday, at around 8 p.m., we tried to focus on our CEO’s agenda, while our minds drifted to dinner and home.
Our bodies, stiff from sitting, struggled to support our racing minds—tired from managing tasks, generating creative ideas, and anticipating next steps. I squinted at my screen as our founder fired off instructions.
Suddenly, his words interrupted my thoughts:
“Where's the hustle?” he asked.
I left that meeting with his question burning in my mind:
“Where was my hustle?” I wondered.
Interestingly, that word—‘hustle’—has meant different things at different points in my life. I remember initially encountering the word when I was quite young, when someone used the term ‘hustle and bustle’ to describe the city of Mumbai. My brain associated the word with that feeling of bustle—busy, crowded, on-the-go.
Surrounded by what I later identified as a version of ‘hustle culture,’ I came to understand ‘hustle’ as more than just a word—it was a work ethic that prioritized output above all else. It was characterized by long hours, multitasking, and an unrelenting drive for fast-paced achievement.
At college, I seized every opportunity available. I juggled parties while waking early for office hours, ran for student leadership while training for charity runs (I’m not a runner), and worked in two research labs simultaneously. My solution was always the same—just rest less. The college triad proved true: sleep, grades, or social life—pick two.
Ideologically, it made sense in how it was equated with ambition and drive. Practically, however, the means of achievement glorified as ‘hustle-worthy’ often came at a cost—whether to health, rest, or well-being.
After five years of subscribing to hustle—throughout undergrad and into my first job—I found myself constantly drained. Eventually, I found myself craving rest without knowing how to achieve it. I had just forgotten how to.
I wondered: what exactly was rest, and why did it seem so elusive?
Through my exploration as a neuroscience student, I discovered the biology of rest. Turns out rest isn’t just an absence of activity—it’s an active, essential process governed by specific brain systems. Understanding this—how our brains actually function when we rest—changed my perspective on productivity and revealed why constant never-ending hustle is fundamentally at odds with how our minds are designed to work.
Let me show you how.
The science of rest
Our brains operate on two opposing neural networks that need to properly balance for optimal functioning: Task-Positive Network (TPN) and Default Mode Network (DMN).
1- Think of Task-Positive Network (TPN) as the brain’s “focus mode”—it kicks in when we’re solving problems, concentrating on a task, or responding to external stimuli.
2- Default Mode Network (DMN) is like the brain’s “default mode”—it becomes active when we’re at rest, daydreaming, or reflecting on ourselves.
These two networks work in opposition—when one is active, the other is quiet. And overworking your TPN—constantly firing, rarely pausing, or me during my busier undergrad days—means DMN never gets its turn.
Here’s what that looked like.
— Mornings started with a jolt of caffeine, forcing my brain to switch immediately into execution mode as I rushed to finish final edits on a paper. TPN activated.
— Then, the frantic sprint to class. In analytical courses, my TPN stayed locked in—absorbing theories, running mental simulations, and engaging in structured problem-solving. Even in creative humanities classes, where DMN should have had space for introspection and abstract thinking, the constant pressure to take notes, participate, and structure my thoughts meant my TPN remained in charge.
— Office hours, lab meetings, research work—all back-to-back. Lunch wasn't a break but a continuation of work, my TPN keeping me engaged as I processed discussions while eating. Lab work demanded intense focus—whether analyzing data or troubleshooting an experiment, my TPN was fully activated, tracking multiple streams of information at once.
— By this point in the day, mental fatigue would set in, but my TPN didn't turn off just because my brain was tired. Instead, it worked harder, triggering stress responses that ironically made it even harder to focus effectively.
— Evening meant student org meetings, where decision-making and problem-solving kept my TPN engaged. Every discussion and logistical challenge demanded more attention and planning. By the time I finally met up with friends, my TPN was still buzzing, making it harder to fully relax. Conversations turned into problem-solving and mentally rehearsing tomorrow's tasks.
— Even moments that should've allowed my DMN to take over—like walking home alone or lying in bed—were hijacked by rumination and planning, keeping my TPN in a prolonged, unsustainable loop.
— And then, early the next morning, I'd wake up to go running (remember, I'm not a runner).
Instead of resetting, my brain just kept going, caught in an endless cycle of TPN engagement. Without enough DMN-driven recovery, my ability to think creatively, regulate stress, and even retain information gradually deteriorated—pushing me closer to burnout.
Now that you can see how my TPN dominated all day long, try mapping out your own TPN-to-DMN activation throughout your days.
A healthy mind naturally alternates between TPN and DMN—switching between focused productivity and restorative mental wandering.
And here’s the critical insight: while we can deliberately activate our TPN through tasks and focus, the DMN only emerges when we allow our brain to truly rest.
This is why we struggle with always-on hustle. When your brain is perpetually “on,” it never gets the chance to shift into its default restoration mode. Because the DMN isn’t something you can force or schedule in a 15-minute break between meetings—it requires genuine mental space, stillness, and an absence of structured cognitive effort.
In absence of that in our achievement-obsessed culture, when we don’t allow for this natural oscillation, the TPN stays locked in overdrive, and rest becomes something we have to relearn rather than something that simply happens.
The blind spot here is overlooking that DMN isn’t just “downtime”—it’s the time when your brain processes emotions, integrates experiences, generates creative insights and allows for self-reflective thinking.
So how do we restore balance? How do we give our DMN the space it needs?
You know the answer: rest.
But how do we rest—and rest holistically?
Types of rest
Let me walk you through the types of rest we all need and how to actually incorporate them into your life:
1. Physical rest
When we think of rest, this is usually what comes to mind. At the end of a hectic workday, you might crash on the couch and put on Netflix. That feels like rest, right? And it is: your body gets physical rest, and your problem-solving mind gets a break.
But physical rest has two dimensions:
Passive physical rest through quality sleep.
Active physical rest that rejuvenates your body through movement
How to enable it: Set a consistent sleep schedule, take stretch breaks every two hours during your workday, or book a massage. Even simple desk stretches can begin restoring physical balance.
2. Mental rest
You might be getting your full eight hours of sleep, but if you've spent the entire day obsessing over a problem, your brain may not have fully rested. Mental rest allows your cognitive processing to reset.
How to enable it: Schedule intentional pauses between tasks—actual breaks where you step away. Try a "brain dump" journal at day's end to clear mental clutter. These practices create the space for your DMN to activate.
3. Sensory rest
Even when we're physically still, our senses continue to be stimulated—by sounds, visuals, and constant streams of information. Our overloaded senses need specific forms of relief.
How to enable it: Try watching a sunset without taking a photo, spend a few minutes in complete silence, or take a "scent walk" to notice different smells. Practice mindful eating by focusing on every flavor and texture. Even wrapping ourselves in a soft blanket or walking barefoot on grass can reset our sense of touch. These moments of sensory simplicity reset your overstimulated nervous system.
4. Creative rest
Ever spent hours stuck on a tough essay or work task, only to have the solution suddenly hit you in the shower? That's creative rest in action. When we step away—whether by taking a walk, doodling, or shampooing our hair—the DMN keeps working quietly in the background, reorganizing ideas and forming unexpected connections.
How to enable it: Allow your mind to wander and daydream. Engage in playful absurdity—pick up a childhood comic book you loved or watch cartoons from way back in the day. Creative insights often emerge when we stop forcing them.
5. Social and emotional rest
Another way we like to unwind is by spending time with friends. While this provides mental and creative rest, it may not address social and emotional exhaustion. These arise from the brain's constant engagement with others—processing emotions, maintaining conversations, and responding to social cues.
How to enable it: Create a soothing comfort playlist for moments of overwhelm. Schedule a weekly "day in" or "social recharge hour" just for yourself. Consider which relationships energize you versus those that drain you, and adjust accordingly.
6. Spiritual rest
You might fill your vacation days with relaxing activities that bring joy—watching sunsets on the patio, exploring new trails, or lingering in the warmth of long summer evenings.
These moments are fulfilling, but do they replenish you on a deeper level? Spiritual rest isn't just about doing things we love; it's about creating space for stillness, reflection, and connection with something greater than ourselves.
How to enable it: Connect through acts of service to others. Helping someone provides a sense of purpose and fulfilment that passive rest cannot replace. Consider small but meaningful gestures like buying coffee for a stranger, writing a thoughtful note for a friend, or volunteering at a local shelter for an hour. Even checking in on a loved one can create a profound sense of renewal.
While the way we practice rest will look different for each of us, a holistic perspective can be helpful.
Are we giving ourselves permission to rest without guilt, or do we feel the need to earn it? When was the last time we did something restful that truly re-energized us, rather than just numbed us? Are we balancing social interactions with moments of meaningful solitude?
By considering these questions, we can begin to rethink rest.
As for me, I did relearn how to rest—gradually but thoroughly. Visualizing my TPN in overdrive and my DMN suppressed helped reset my guilt around taking breaks, but the real change came from consistent practice.
I started by acknowledging my daily bandwidth across all dimensions: emotional, creative, social, mental, and physical. With a clearer, more realistic sense of how much task-positive activity felt meaningful in a day, I began using the newly-liberated pockets of time for restorative activities.
Now, painting mandalas in my old artbook, taking long walks while listening to music, watching an entire sunset at least once a week, keeping one day each week just for myself, doing ten minutes of daily stretching, and indulging in plenty of uninterrupted daydreaming have become my routine.
I'm not sure exactly where I've landed in redefining my relationship with hustle, but I do feel like myself again—recharged, reset, and rested. And I'd like to think that's my cue to keep going.
“In March I'll be rested, caught up and human”- Sylvia Plath (1953)
Once again, we’d love to hear your thoughts on Truth Be Told. You can fill out the feedback form by clicking this link.