On the first of March, I started something I wasn’t sure I’d finish.

I called it The Quiet Reset: a 4-Week journaling e-guide I made for myself and others who, like me, have this deep-rooted urge to change everything now, but always end up burning out halfway through.

I’ve tried so many “resets” in the past (the kind that involve waking up at 5am, drinking lemon water like it’s a religion, exercising six times a week, journaling with five different highlighters, and pretending I was totally fine when I wasn’t). I usually made it to day 4 before the pressure cracked through the surface.

This time I knew I had to create a reset myself. It had to meet my standards without being too overwhelming and demanding. I wanted it to act like a friend, not a drill instructor.

I asked myself: How would a friend help me when everything feels overwhelming? I wrote down the answers until I came up with the quiet reset. It turned out to be the best companion I could have wished for last month. 

The Quiet Reset didn’t ask me to perform.
It didn’t even ask me to try that hard.
It just invited me to show up.

I used to think I had to earn rest

One of the biggest changes over this month was letting go of the idea that rest has to be earned.

Before, I’d catch myself negotiating rest with my inner productivity gremlin:

“You can lie down… but only if you finish everything on your list.”

“You can enjoy this hobby… but only after answering all your emails, cleaning your kitchen, and being ‘deserving.’”

But here’s the thing: That mindset is a trap. It leads to chronic fatigue and burnout masked as “motivation.”

Research from Dr. Saundra Dalton-Smith’s work on the seven types of rest helped me understand that I wasn’t just tired physically …I was emotionally and mentally drained from constantly trying to be “high-functioning.”

The Quiet Reset taught me to rest before I hit the wall.
To take breaks when I felt even a little off.
Not because I had collapsed but because I was human.

Some days, I didn’t journal anything deep. I just wrote down a sentence like:

“I feel a little overwhelmed but I’m proud I showed up today.”

And that definitely counted.

For the first time ever, I didn’t struggle to keep up

Maybe the wildest part of all this: I actually completed the whole month.

No skipping weeks. 
No guilt.
No frantic “catch-up” journaling.
No perfectionism.

And I think it worked because it was quiet.

Because I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

Because I gave myself permission to simply show up as I was: messy, tired, joyful, unmotivated…and write from there.

There were days when I journaled in bed. 

There were mornings I lit a candle and wrote slowly with tea.

There were even moments I crafted instead of writing at all.

But every day, I made space for myself  and it became something I genuinely looked forward to.

Not another task.
Not a punishment.
Just returning to my own thoughts.

I reclaimed my hobbies and my energy

Somewhere in this journaling process, I also noticed I started craving things I hadn’t touched in a long time:

• Sketching just for fun, with no goal of posting it anywhere
• Solo traveling to my favorite places
• Reading weird, atmospheric books again
• Going for walks and letting myself take the long way home
• Making silly collages or mood boards that no one would ever see
• Listening to music with my eyes closed and doing nothing else

I wasn’t trying to “be productive.” I was just… being.

And that did more for my nervous system than any productivity hack ever has.

Neurologically, this makes sense because engaging in enjoyable, low-pressure hobbies helps regulate the parasympathetic nervous system, which brings us back to a state of calm, repair, and safety.

Which is exactly what I needed even if I didn’t have words for it at first.

What I learned and what I’m still learning

I’m realizing now that healing doesn’t always look like grand gestures.

Sometimes it looks like writing one honest sentence in your journal and then letting yourself lie down.

Sometimes it looks like doing nothing and finally not feeling guilty about it.

I used to think I needed to “fix” myself.

Now I think I just needed to listen.

Here’s what The Quiet Reset gave me:

• A sense of safety in my own rhythm
• Trust in my ability to show up (even imperfectly)
• A new relationship with consistency (one that feels loving, not punishing)
• A reminder that I am allowed to take up space, even when I’m not achieving
• A quieter mind and a stronger connection to myself

And maybe most importantly:

I no longer feel like I’m behind just because I’m tired.

I feel like I’m finally moving with my life, not against it. 🙏

If you’re thinking of starting your own quiet reset…

Here’s my advice:

- Don’t overthink it.

- Don’t wait for a “better” month.

- Don’t pressure yourself to write something profound every day.

- Let it be soft. Let it be simple. Create it for you. Let it be yours.

You don’t need to fix everything at once.

Sometimes the smallest changes, like letting yourself rest when you need it, create the biggest transformations.

I didn’t become a new person in 30 days.

But I returned to a authentic version of myself that I was missing.

And that’s more than enough.

Pia 💌