When Rest Doesn’t Feel Restful: Finding What Works for Neurodivergent Brains

Written by: Jasmine K. Y. Loo (Licensed Psychologist)

For many people, rest is imagined as doing less: lying down, sitting quietly, meditating, “switching off” (whatever that means). And for some neurodivergent people (NDs), those things can be genuinely restful. 

But for others, “doing nothing” can create the exact opposite effect. The body may feel restless even when physically still. The mind? Even more so. It’s almost as if the way we’re wired has some personal beef with the concept of resting.

In fact, the problem is not always that we are bad at resting. Sometimes, we are simply using a definition of rest that does not fit our nervous system.

Does this image irk you like it does me?

Why “Doing Nothing” Can Sometimes Feel Worse

When we stop moving, the external demands may decrease, but internal processing can become louder. Unfinished conversations resurface, tasks we have been avoiding return to awareness, the brain starts troubleshooting tomorrow, and guilt whispers that we should be doing something useful.

For some NDs, complete inactivity removes the structure that had been keeping those thoughts at bay. This does not mean we should avoid stillness altogether, but rather, to challenge the automatic assumption that stillness is always restorative.

Sometimes, gentle engagement gives the mind a sense of safety and containment.

Rest Doesn’t Always Mean the Absence of Activity

One way to think about rest is to separate activity level from demand level. An activity can involve movement, concentration or engagement and still feel restorative if it places relatively low demands on us.

Likewise, lying on the couch may look restful from the outside while the brain continues working overtime internally. This is one reason some NDs recover better through gentle, absorbing activity than through complete stillness.

The goal is not necessarily to stop doing, but to reduce the kinds of demands that are currently overloading us.

Mindfulness Is Not the Same as Meditation

Mindfulness is often misunderstood as being synonymous with meditation. In reality, meditation is one way to practise mindfulness, but it is not the only way.

At its core, mindfulness is about deliberately bringing attention to the present moment, with less judgement and less automatic entanglement in whatever thoughts are passing through.

For some people, this might happen while sitting quietly and focusing on the breath. For others, especially those who find stillness uncomfortable or cognitively noisy, mindfulness may happen more naturally while doing something.

I sometimes think of this as Mindfulness in Action (MIA). So, instead of forcing the mind to become blank, it’s about engaging in an activity that helps attention settle into the present through movement, rhythm, sensory input or focused interest.

What Mindfulness in Action Can Look Like

The right activity will vary enormously from person to person, and even for the same person from one moment to the next. Sometimes we may need something extremely low-demand. Other times, a more absorbing activity might be exactly what helps the mind stop ricocheting between unfinished thoughts.

Examples might include engaging in a special interest, sorting or organising something repetitive, gardening, drawing, knitting, walking somewhere familiar, doing a puzzle, listening closely to music or completing a simple hands-on task.

The important question isn't: “Is this productive?”

It is: “Does this activity reduce demand and help my system settle?”

Repetition Can Be Restful

Many NDs find repetitive movement or predictable sensory input soothing. That might include pacing, rocking, swimming, kneading dough, folding clothes, brushing a pet, crocheting, sanding wood or walking the same route repeatedly.

These activities can provide enough stimulation to prevent restlessness while being predictable enough to reduce cognitive load. For some, this can be far more restful than trying to sit completely still.

Sensory Nourishment Matters Too

Rest is not only cognitive. Sometimes the nervous system is depleted because it has spent too long processing unpleasant sensory input. Rest might therefore involve deliberately seeking sensory experiences that feel regulating.

This could include soft lighting, warmth, cool air, pressure, movement, familiar music, a favourite texture, being near water or spending time in nature. The point is not to build the world’s most elaborate sensory routine, but simply to notice what helps your body feel less defensive.

Parallel Play Can Be Rest

Rest doesn’t always have to be solitary. Some NDs find parallel play deeply restorative: being around another person while each person quietly does their own thing.

For example, one person might read while the other plays a game. Someone might draw while their partner watches television. Two friends might sit in a café working independently without feeling any pressure to keep conversation going.

This kind of connection can reduce loneliness without adding the social demand of constant interaction. Sometimes, being together without needing to perform together is exactly what the nervous system needs.

Low-Demand Joy Still Counts

Another form of rest is allowing ourselves to do something purely because it feels pleasant or meaningful. That might be watching videos related to a special interest, wandering through a park, photographing birds, browsing a second-hand bookshop, sitting somewhere green or doing something small for the community.

Meaningful activity does not have to be grand. For some, picking up rubbish during a beach walk may feel surprisingly grounding because it combines movement, repetition, nature and a sense of contribution. For someone else, the same activity might feel like extra work.

That's the point: rest is individual.

Finding Your Own Version of Rest

There is no single correct way to rest. If meditation works beautifully for you, keep it. If lying under a weighted blanket helps your nervous system reset, wonderful.

If you recover best while walking, painting miniature figurines, reorganising your bookshelf, listening to the same album for the hundredth time or quietly doing your own thing beside someone you trust, that counts too.

If we spend a little less effort trying to make our rest look restful to somebody else and a little more reflecting on whether it leaves us with a little more capacity than before, we might find that many “relaxing activities” for neurotypical people aren’t relaxing for us at all.

For many NDs, the most restorative moments are not necessarily the quietest ones or ones imbued with complete stillness. Sometimes, it is about finding the kind of movement, focus, sensory input or connection that finally lets the rest of the brain exhale.