Wild Chickens in the Infinity Pool
on rest and unlearning
The rippled water reflected the green shrubbery and cloudy sky. I struggled to believe it was January 1, 2025, because in my experience, January means cold weather.
We spent the last days of 2024 on Kauai, which meant that at 7:00 am on New Year’s Day, I was sitting in a tranquil infinity pool and listening to the wind rustle through the palm branches. For once, I ignored calls to finish the year strong. Kauai was a perfect opportunity to relax and recharge—except for the wild chickens.
Kauai’s feral chicken population is a source of amusement for tourists, but it’s a significant issue that prompted recent legislation on chicken population control. Not only are chicken droppings a public health concern, but the rooster reveille tends to disrupt sleep.
Like my New Year tranquility interrupted by raucous crowing, rest has been an elusive target for most of my life. This is the lot of a Quiverfull daughter. We do not deserve rest until all the tasks are done—and they are never done. Sitting down is an invitation for more work. When we were first married, I would try to give my husband tasks whenever he sat down to read a book. It didn’t occur to me that he deserved to rest without interruptions.
For years, my heart would race like a feral chicken when I tried to nap. Rest felt dangerous for my body. Children in abusive Quiverfull families learn hypervigilance from a young age; relaxation is selfish and ungodly. It takes years to unlearn this training. It takes years to teach our bodies that we’re safe now, that it’s ok to rest, to silence the wild chickens that crow “danger! danger!” when we lie down.
The inability to rest isn’t unique to Quiverfull contexts; overwork is the scourge of American society. My ability to push through and be productive is often rewarded, despite workplace webinars on wellbeing and self-care.1 But telling our bodies that it’s ok to rest is especially complicated when it was physically unsafe for our childhood bodies to relax.
In my case, having a safe person to encourage my rest has been crucial. Therapy is great, but sometimes you really do need someone to tell you to rest while they bring you tea and snacks. And if they do that for long enough, your body might start to believe that it’s safe to relax.
And then you can laugh at the wild chickens in the infinity pool and relax anyway.
Shoutout to my boss who never makes me feel like I need to work harder or be more productive.