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mourning doves and pitaya—with love, from Mexico
on rest, dance parties, and the luxury of stopping
Laura Winberry
November 18, 2025 • Estimated Reading Time: 6 minutes
gm and welcome to issue 44—thanks for being here. 🏴☠️
Last week I told you about knocking on doors, cold emailing my way into coffee meetings, and that hustle energy that (for better or worse) has just kinda always been part of who I am. This week, I'm writing to you from poolside at an Airbnb in Todos Santos, MX, where I am doing the opposite of being all lfgooo.
I am resting.
(And yes, I could pepper this whole newsletter with Spanish words because I actually speak Spanish and I'm IN Mexico, but that shit is fucking annoying when people do it, so no—I'm not gonna be that cringe gringa on the page that I'm almost certain I've already been while actually here. You’re welcome.)
I came here with two girlfriends, both getting divorced. Both stepping into new chapters. Both celebrating the freedom that comes with letting go of what wasn't working. Huge fucking cheers to that, and them.
We've been here almost three days now, and we have another four ahead of us. And what I’ve been doing is simple: eating fruit covered in tajín, listening to mourning doves chatter among the bougainvillea and pitayas and palms and agave smashed up against the shoreline. Taking notice of the spiderwebs woven into the wrought iron gates, how they flap and glisten at night, caught in the light of passing cars.
We do dance workouts every morning. And impromptu dancing in the evenings before heading out. It’s one long dance party sleepover with two gems in my life.
This is rest.
“Work is never done.”
Stopping is a luxury is important
When you own a business that you constantly need to drum up work for—and you're building something else on the side—the hustle becomes your default state. Even though it has always been my default state…still, you're always reaching out, always pitching, always knocking on doors. It's necessary. It's how things move forward.
But it's also somewhat unsustainable without taking a beat here and there.
I know the luxury of rest. I know the privilege of being able to take this trip, to stop for a week, to be here. And because I know it's a privilege, I'm not wasting it. I'm actually fucking resting. Not checking email every five minutes. Not drafting cold outreach in my head. Not thinking about survey response rates or investor pitches (ok, maybe a little).
Just being here. Shaking tajín onto everything. With these two humans. Each of us building our lives while letting one another do more than just witness that building. Instead, we invite one another in as part of process. What else is there?
What slowing the fuck down actually looks like
Rest isn't just lying by the pool (though there's been quite a bit of that, plus maybe an on-beach massage that was one of the best I’ve ever had, no joke). It's also:
Dance workouts that aren't about productivity or optimization. Just moving because it feels good. Because we're in our bodies and the music is loud and we're laughing.
Noticing small things. The way light catches a spiderweb on a wrought iron gate. The specific coo of mourning doves among cacti. The taste of mango with lime and chili powder. The chip of light in the eyes of strangers.
Actually stopping. Not "I'm taking a break but still thinking about work" stopping. Real stopping. The kind where you remember you're a human being, not just a human doing.
Other takeaways to remember
These might come off as super cheesy, but… oh well.
The hustle is necessary, but it's not everything. You can't knock on doors forever without stopping to remember why you're knocking in the first place.
Rest is productive. Not in the capitalist sense of "recharging so you can work harder." But in the sense that being present and human and connected is the whole fucking point.
New chapters deserve celebration. My friends are getting divorced and it's hard but it doesn’t have to all be sad. And, it isn’t. Hard shit that means you’re choosing your own wellbeing and self deserves celebration. Period.
Meet people where they're at. Whether that's speaking their language, respecting their space, or just showing up with humility instead of expectation.
When you have the luxury of rest, actually rest. Don't waste it on guilt or half-assing it. Be all the way fucking right here.
“There is more to life than increasing its speed.”
Links your algo (and the government) doesn’t want you to see
The Importance of Doing Nothing — On why rest isn't laziness, it's essential. From the New York Times.
How to Actually Rest — The Atlantic on why we feel guilty about resting and how to stop.
Niksen: The Dutch Art of Doing Nothing — Time Magazine on the concept of purposeful idleness. Very relevant poolside in Mexico.
I know, I’m an asshole.
Annnd that's issue 44—from Todos Santos, with love.
Thanks for being here while I actually stop being all go-go for a minute. Hope you get to chill tf fuck out soon too.
Until next week.
xoxo,
lw
PS: Subscribe now if you're into this messy build-in-public energy. Miss the last issue? It’s right here. Also literally none of this is ever advice. I’m sharing what I learn through Babe, and perhaps you’ll learn from my mistakes. Hopefully, maybe, who knows, ily. Also if you’re not already, come hang with Babe on insta, Farcaster, and TBA 🟦.