May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and as a CorpsAfrica Volunteer, it’s got me thinking a lot about something we don’t often talk about enough in service work: rest.

I call them my maintenance days ; those quiet moments when I choose to slow down, step back, breathe, and just let myself be.

Serving in a rural community can be deeply rewarding .You get to be part of something bigger than yourself, learn things no classroom could ever teach you, and form bonds that shift your whole view of life. But it’s also… a lot. Emotionally. Mentally. Sometimes even spiritually.

There are days I feel stretched thin. Days when I give so much of myself that I forget to check in with that small voice inside that asks, “Hey, are you okay?” That’s where maintenance days come in.

On these days, I don’t push myself to attend every meeting or brainstorm the next big community project. I rest. I take a walk. I journal. Sometimes, I just lay in the sun and listen to music. I give myself permission to not “do.” And you know what? That doesn’t make me a bad volunteer. It makes me a whole one.

I’ve come to realize that rest isn’t just about stopping. It’s about healing. It’s a way of honoring myself, the same way I try to honor the people I serve.

In a world that often glorifies exhaustion and celebrates being busy, choosing rest can feel like rebellion. But it’s necessary. Especially when your work is rooted in empathy and connection. You can’t pour from an empty cup.

So this month, I’m leaning into rest without guilt. I’m reminding myself (and maybe reminding you, too) that maintenance days are not selfish. They are essential.

If you’re out there doing meaningful work; whether it’s in a village, a city, a classroom, or at home, please take care of yourself. Take a day. Breathe. Sleep in. Watch the sky. Cry if you need to. Laugh for no reason. Do whatever recharges your soul.

We all deserve that.

With warmth and rest,

Matinde.