Are you feeling tired?
Not the dramatic kind. The quiet, bone-deep kind that doesn’t need language.

This moment isn’t asking anything of you.

You don’t have to decide. You don’t have to explain. You don’t have to be better than you are right now.

Notice how much you’re holding without realising it—
the jaw set, the shoulders lifted, the breath kept shallow like a habit.
You can unclench now.
Nothing will fall apart if you do.

We’re taught to recognise care as effort: fixing, pushing, improving.
But there’s another kind of care—
the kind that arrives without instructions.
The kind that doesn’t measure, evaluate, or hurry you along.

That’s care, asking nothing of you.

In moments like this, rest isn’t something you earn.
It’s something you remember how to receive.