Even beauty needs rest

    "Rest" captures a relaxing moment at TheNest Sunbird beach featuring the Pig Baby Animesh from Rezzroom.

Rest is elusive. It feels as though body-breaking systems are at work everywhere, pressing in from all sides. As someone who inhabits both the physical world and Second Life, I often wonder: how do we navigate these two spaces when their boundaries feel more porous than fixed? Can Second Life become a place of rest amid such relentless demands?

Rest, I know, means different things to different people. For some, it is a full immersion into fantasy; where avatars are nothing like their real-life selves. For others, Second Life becomes a site of correction or enhancement, a realm where what is lacking or longed for in one life might be found in the other. Some treat it as an extension of the self, bringing to the virtual world all the flesh-and-bone reality of emotions, histories, and perspectives.

As for me, I don’t see a strict divide between the two. I experience Second Life as a space of encounter, creativity, and growth. My real-life experiences shape how I understand and inhabit my virtual presence. They are not separate, but in conversation with one another.

This short machinima captures a peaceful moment as I sail my Namaste boat from The Mesh Shop across the Blake Sea. Sailing is very much a thing in Second Life; it's one of the most calming ways to explore and unwind. For the best viewing experience, watch the video on Flickr.

Within Second Life, I’ve known moments of deep rest held in the company of others, immersed in photography, machinima, and designing spaces inspired by beloved real-world places. But there are also times when the pressures of real-life leak into this digital cocoon, unraveling the creative threads I work so hard to weave, straining relationships I hope will flourish.

And so, authenticity becomes essential. Both our virtual and physical lives demand rest. Sometimes, this may mean stepping away from Second Life when it no longer nourishes us. I did this myself, leaving for more than seven years before returning during the pandemic. The imposed distance from others made me realize just how vital touch and intimacy are. Second Life offered a renewed space of connection, possibility, and reprieve.

     In "Safe and Stout," rabbits rest quietly among gently moving grasses and shrubs at TheNest Sunbird.

In a world where we can become anyone and anything, we can be overwhelmed by endless options. Yet at our core, we remain beings who need rest. So as you read this, I gently invite you: treat yourself to a comforting meal, embrace someone you love, or delight in the soft, grounding presence of your pets.

I came to understand this truth more fully while walking through Matobo National Park in Zimbabwe. The land was breathtaking in its stillness. And there, in that dry but majestic expanse, I saw clearly: even beauty needs rest.