Why Your Writing Process Needs Sacred Pauses
Part 3 of the “We Will Rest” series
My friend used to be the queen of writing productivity hacks.
She had apps that tracked her daily word count, spreadsheets that calculated her "words per minute" efficiency, and a color-coded calendar that scheduled her creative time down to fifteen-minute increments.
She treated her writing process like a machine that needed optimal tuning to run at peak performance.
Then she hit a wall. Not writer's block—something deeper.
She was producing words, meeting daily targets, and checking all the productivity boxes. But the words felt hollow. The stories lacked soul. She was writing, but she wasn't creating.
That's when she discovered what Tricia Hersey calls "sacred pauses"—and everything changed.
The Difference Between Productive Rest and Sacred Rest
Here's what most writing advice gets wrong: it treats rest as a productivity tool.
"Take breaks to avoid burnout!" "Rest so you can write better tomorrow!" "Recharge your creative batteries!"
But as Tricia Hersey, author of We Will Rest! The Art of Escape, writes: "We don't believe we are worthy of rest unless we burn ourselves out to accomplish it."
We've been conditioned to see rest as something we earn through productivity, not as something we deserve simply because we're human.
Productive rest asks: "How much do I need rest so I can work better?"
Sacred rest asks: "How can I honor my need for rest as a creative being?"
The difference is profound—and it will transform your writing.
What Sacred Pauses Look Like in Your Writing Process
Before You Write: The Arrival Pause
Instead of sitting down and immediately opening your laptop, try an "arrival pause."
Spend 2-3 minutes simply arriving in your writing space.
Notice your surroundings.
Feel your body in the chair.
Breathe.
This isn't about "getting in the zone" for productivity.
It's about honoring the transition from your regular life to your creative life.
As Hersey reminds us, rest is about "asserting our most basic humanity."
You're not a content-creation machine that switches on—you're a human entering sacred creative space.
Author Example: A romance writer used to jump straight from answering emails to writing love scenes, then wondered why her dialogue felt mechanical. Now she lights a candle and focuses on her breathing and her body before writing—not as a productivity ritual, but as a way of saying "I'm leaving the ordinary world and entering the world of my story." Since starting this ritual, her writing has become more emotionally authentic and enjoyable. Why? Because she's present for the transition.
During Writing: Permission to Drift
Most writing advice tells you to stay focused, eliminate distractions, push through resistance. But what if that resistance is actually wisdom?
Sometimes your subconscious needs time to process. Sometimes your creativity requires wandering before it finds its path. Sometimes the best thing you can do for your story is to stop trying to force it.
I encourage my author clients to build "drift time" into their writing sessions—moments where they're allowed to stare out the window, doodle in the margins, or simply sit with their hands away from the keyboard.
From Einstein to Salvador Dalí, creatives have long attributed daydreaming as a vital part of their creative process.
When we cut this out in the name of “efficiency,” we’re eliminating an essential component of creative thinking.
Author Example: A thriller writer used to berate himself every time his mind wandered during writing sessions. Now he keeps a journal with him at all times. When his mind wanders, he jots down whatever he's thinking about—character ideas, random memories, weird questions. He's discovered that these mental detours often contain the seeds of his best plot twists.
Between Projects: The Sacred Fallow
In agriculture, fallow periods allow soil to restore its nutrients. Fields left fallow aren't "unproductive"—they're regenerating.
Your creativity needs fallow periods too.
But instead of honoring this natural rhythm, we panic when we finish one project and immediately pressure ourselves to start the next.
As Americans are beyond burned out, Tricia Hersey’s Nap Ministry preaches the right to rest. On the importance of creating space for ourselves, she writes, "We can just be. We are beautiful. We are enough."
This applies powerfully to the space between projects.
What Fallow Looks Like:
Reading without analyzing craft techniques
Taking walks without bringing a notebook
Consuming art in other mediums, without thinking about your own work
Simply existing as a person who writes, not as a writing machine
The Neuroscience of Sacred Pauses
Here's what's happening in your brain during sacred pauses: your default mode network (DMN) becomes active.
This is the brain network responsible for introspection, moral reasoning, and—crucially for writers—connecting disparate ideas in novel ways.
When you're constantly focused on productivity, you're engaging your task-positive network and suppressing your DMN.
But your DMN is where creativity actually happens.
Those "aha!" moments in the shower? That's your DMN connecting dots that your focused mind couldn't see.
Sacred pauses aren't time away from creativity—they're time spent in a different kind of creative consciousness.
Sacred Pauses vs. Productivity Breaks: A Comparison
How to Build Sacred Pauses Into Your Process
Start Small: The Micro-Pause
You don't need to overhaul your entire writing routine. Start with tiny sacred pauses:
Before opening your manuscript: Take three conscious breaths
Between scenes: Stand up and feel your feet on the floor
When you feel stuck: Close your eyes for one minute without trying to solve anything
The key is approaching these moments as sacred rather than strategic. You're not pausing to be more productive—you're pausing to be more human.
Weekly Sacred Time
Block out time each week that belongs entirely to your creative spirit.
This isn't time for writing, editing, or marketing. It's time for feeding the well that your writing draws from.
Maybe it's visiting a museum without taking notes.
Maybe it's cooking a meal mindfully. Maybe it's sitting in nature without bringing a notebook.
The only rule is that this time serves your creativity indirectly, by serving you as a whole person.
Seasonal Creative Rhythms
Just as nature has seasons, your creativity has natural rhythms.
Instead of fighting these rhythms, design your writing life around them:
Spring energy: New projects, brainstorming, planning
Summer energy: Productive writing, pushing forward, growth
Fall energy: Editing, refining, harvesting what you've grown
Winter energy: Rest, reading, letting ideas germinate
Case Study: Embracing A Fallow Period
I felt burned out after pushing myself to hit several ambitious writing deadlines.
My progress had been good, but I felt disconnected from my creative work, and I began to dread sitting down to write.
Instead of optimizing my process further, I decided to follow Tricia’s advice to rest with a rather terrifying idea.
I embraced a three-month fallow period.
No writing. No plotting. No craft books. Just living and reading for pleasure.
In other words, the complete opposite of what the publishing industry, fellow authors, and my culture told me to do.
After all, I was supposed to power through, right? Be consistent? Write and post every day?
I’d spent a lifetime trying that, and I knew in my heart it was time for a new perspective. After reading We Will Rest! The Art of Escape, I hoped that perspective would be Tricia’s.
After three months of rest, I felt something I had be missing - the spark of excitement around a story idea.
As I return to writing, I’ve reconnected with my inner creative spirit that wants to write. Versus before, writing had become something I “had” to do, no matter how tired or burnt out I felt.
If I had kept forcing myself to push through, the dread would have grown, my creativity shriveled and died, and writing would have become torture instead of my favorite thing to do.
My fallow period did not set back my career. It did not make me less productive. It made me more creative and gave me a fresh start.
But What About Deadlines?
Sacred pauses aren't about abandoning all structure.
They're about working with your natural rhythms instead of against them. Most writers find that honoring their need for sacred rest actually makes them more efficient during their writing time.
You can meet deadlines and honor your humanity. You just need to plan for both.
Your Creative Spirit Is Not Your Employee
Hersey writes that "our worth does not reside in how much we produce."
This includes your worth as a writer.
Your creative spirit isn't your employee; it doesn’t show up on demand, perform consistently, and do everything you command.
Instead, creativity is your collaborator, your co-creator, your artistic partner. And like any partnership, it requires care, respect, and sometimes just being together without an agenda.
The writers who last—who maintain both their sanity and their creativity over decades—are the ones who understand this.
They know sustainable creativity requires honoring the full spectrum of the creative process, including the pauses.
Starting Your Sacred Pause Practice
This week, I challenge you to try one sacred pause:
Choose a moment in your writing process where you usually push forward, and instead, pause. Not to strategize or problem-solve, but simply to be present with yourself as a creative being.
Notice what comes up. Notice any resistance to "unproductive" time. Notice what your creative spirit actually needs when you give it space to speak.
In my next post, we'll dive deeper into one of the most powerful forms of creative rest: daydreaming. We'll explore how protecting your dream space can lead to better books and why the stories that change the world often begin in moments of seemingly "doing nothing."
For now, pause and consider:
When do you most resist taking creative pauses?
What would happen if you honored that resistance instead of pushing through it?
