The Vital Lesson I Learned After One Seriously Lazy Weekend

Could something as simple as a lazy weekend really be the burnout reliever we all need?

I used to make fun of my nan when I was younger because – to put it bluntly – she was always running around like a blue-arsed fly. She’d be up early every single day, even on weekends, ticking off chores until bedtime. No matter how much we begged her to rest, she was incapable of relaxing.

I teased her endlessly. Yet somehow, years later, I’ve found myself walking in her footsteps.

Not that I’m serving up homemade dinners at 7pm or keeping a house that looks like it belongs in a lifestyle magazine. My version of ‘perpetual motion’ is more like working through lunch breaks, staying late, logging in on weekends, juggling clients, managing the business and adult children, replying to messages at midnight, and failing miserably at squeezing in workouts.

Basically, I’m doing everything burnout experts tell you not to do – a million things poorly instead of one thing properly. It’s a mental overload, like stuffing mess into a cupboard until the door bursts open and ruins your day/week/month/year.

I wish I’d asked Nan how she did it all without burning out. She made it look effortless. She was the cheery early bird to my perpetually exhausted pigeon.

So what’s the solution?

As it turns out, the complete opposite of what I’ve been trying to do.

I’d planned a productive Saturday filled with gardening and long walks. Instead, I had a leisurely brunch. Sat on the deck, warming my hands on a mug of tea, doing nothing in particular – and suddenly it was noon and I was still in my pyjamas.

Reader, it was bliss.

Eventually, I did get out for a rambling walk along the beach. I didn’t rush. I stopped for a drink at the local pub. I basked in the sunshine, came home, flopped into bed, put on a comfort movie, and grazed through a dinner of cheese, crackers, hummus and nibbles.

“I’m being so lazy,” I said sheepishly.

“I think we need at least one lazy day every fortnight,” I added. And I meant it.

According to a 2011 study, when our attention is at rest, the mind wanders to the future (48%), the present (28%) and the past (12%). This process increases creativity and problem-solving ability – and conserves our energy for what truly matters.

Reframing ‘laziness’ as rest helps our minds tell us what we need rather than what we crave.

• I needed sleep.

• I needed fresh air.

• I needed mindless DMCs (deep meaningful conversations).

• I needed cheese and crackers.

• I needed a proper recharge.

And I realised something simple but profound: rest isn’t a reward – it’s a necessity.

Maybe that was Nan’s secret all along. It’s easy to imagine her putting her feet up with a mug of Ovaltine and a deck of cards when no one was looking – quietly practising to regularly beat me at gin rummy.