The Impending Joy of a Long Weekend

There’s some tiny magic about the promise of a long weekend.

Maybe it’s the brief shift in rhythm; the thrill of an extra day off stretching out like a little, unexpected gift. Or maybe it’s the invitation it offers to just exhale, to loosen your grip on THE SCHEDULE and and just be for a little while.

I didn’t plan anything this weekend. No trips, no parties, no catch-ups, no aspirational ‘goals’, no productivity masked as “relaxation.” Just time. Spacious, unscheduled time, the kind that gets increasingly squeezed during the regular cadence of my life.

But in that space, I hope to luxuriate in many little pleasures:

To sip my coffee slowly in bed, with no meeting looming. Maybe even have a second cup?To take a little neighbourhood walk, no list of errands or things I must pick up (don’t forget to pick up the thing!). Just letting the winter sun do its thing.To actually read my book, without it being my final chore for the day.To cook. To eat. To stare out the window.

This is the kind of rest that doesn’t feel like a ‘reward’ for hard work, it feels like an actual basic need being met.

There’s a difference between collapsing from exhaustion and choosing to rest with intention. And I think long weekends give us a rare opportunity to experience that choice: to say yes to ourselves in small, gentle ways.

Maybe you sleep in. Maybe you finally call that friend. Maybe you do absolutely nothing at all? And maybe that’s exactly what you need!

Because in a world that celebrates overtime and glorifies burnout (cue the sound of a Teams message), taking care of yourself is quietly radical. And long weekends, small though they are, can be beautiful training grounds for that revolution.

Here's to the joy of doing less. To resetting. To remembering that we are not machines, and that rest is not laziness.