Why I Introduced Mindful Mondays Into My Organization
I manage a small team of female creatives who work in the SRHR and pleasure space. Every day, we each receive messages—either in our DMs, social signals, or from the government—that our lives as Black and/or queer women do not matter. Some of these messages imply threats. Others are expressly made. The building pressure of keeping up positive spirits, of constantly resisting, of holding and creating space for other African, unconventional, and conforming women was beginning to weaken our foundation.
But that is exactly the point, isn’t it? The constant onslaught is designed to weaken our resolve until we are cowed into compliance. I knew something had to change when two of my colleagues left me voice messages fighting back their tears.
Working in advocacy for sexual and reproductive health rights and pleasure—especially in an African context—is as challenging as it is rewarding. We often find ourselves standing at the front lines, amplifying the voices of women who have long been silenced. We tell their stories, bring attention to their battles, and hold space for their victories and their grief.
This work, however, comes with an invisible toll. The more we absorb these stories, the more we carry the weight of systemic injustice and personal trauma. It’s a heavy burden to bear, one that isn’t always visible but manifests in subtle ways: burnout, stress, and emotional exhaustion.
Earlier this year, I started noticing these signs in myself and my team. Deadlines were being met, but the spark that once lit our discussions was dimming. Even I, known for my resilience and penchant for levity, felt an unshakable heaviness. It became clear that while we were doing important work, we were also in danger of losing ourselves in the process.
I’m not a mental health professional. The organization I co-founded and manage—MASI Media—doesn’t have the budget to hire therapists or outsource mental health support. But what I do have is intuition. I knew that what we were all lacking wasn’t just therapy or external help—it was time.
Time is a luxury that women, especially African women, are rarely afforded. Our days are swallowed up by professional demands, familial obligations, and societal expectations. We are taught that rest is indulgent and that our worth is tied to how much we produce.
Knowing this, I decided to give my team the one thing I could: permission to take time off. I instituted “Mindful Mondays” as a four-week trial, giving everyone—including myself—a day each week to step away from the grind and focus on their mental and physical well-being. I trusted that each woman would know how best to use this time to recharge. On our team, we oscillate between calling this intentional day “Meditative Mondays” and “Mental Health Mondays,” but regardless of what we term it, the point of this intentional breaking away is to make sure that we don’t individually BREAK DOWN.
Mindful Mondays isn’t just about taking a day off work. It’s a structured yet flexible practice that allows each of us to define what rest means for ourselves. For some, it’s a day of quiet reflection or meditation. For others, it’s a chance to journal, take a long walk, smoke a blunt, or simply sleep in without guilt. There are no meetings, no emails, and no expectations of productivity.
The idea is simple: by stepping away from the constant pressure to perform, we create space to heal, reflect, and recharge. This intentional pause isn’t just restorative—it’s revolutionary.
By the end of our four-week trial, the impact of Mindful Mondays was undeniable. Productivity had improved—not because we were working harder, but because we were working smarter. Creativity flourished, we were able to incorporate borader perspective to our approach to work, and there was a renewed sense of camaraderie within the team.
One of the most striking outcomes came from our intern, who had been struggling to meet deadlines. She shared that the free day gave her the space to complete all her assignments without the weight of pressure or anxiety. This reverse psychological effect transformed her productivity.
She also revealed that she had recently been diagnosed as neurodivergent. While I don’t fully understand the intricacies of her struggles, I deeply appreciate how this unconventional approach created better outcomes for her—and for all of us.
One of the greatest challenges in implementing Mindful Mondays was overcoming the pull of urgency culture. In today’s fast-paced world, we’re conditioned to believe that every email needs an immediate response, every opportunity must be seized right now, and every moment of rest is a moment wasted.
But urgency culture is a trap. It keeps us in a constant state of stress, convincing us that our worth is tied to our output. Mindful Mondays challenged this narrative, reminding us that rest is not only necessary but also productive in its own right.
Mindful Mondays are about more than avoiding burnout—they’re about reclaiming joy. As Black and queer women, joy is often treated as a luxury we can’t afford. But joy is our birthright, our resistance, and our strength. By carving out space for joy, we remind ourselves—and the world—that we are worth more than the struggles we endure.
The lesson of Mindful Mondays is simple yet profound: to care for others, we must first care for ourselves. This principle is universal, whether you’re a team of advocates, artists, or accountants. Creating intentional moments of rest and reflection can transform not only how you work but also how you live.
At MASI Media, Mindful Mondays started as a small experiment. Today, they’re a cornerstone of our operations—a reminder that in the fight for justice, rest is a form of resistance, and joy is a revolutionary act. Another benefit? Thanks to taking permission to use this day of the week as I deem fit, I am finally able again to write more regularly about the things I enjoy and that I am curious about, no matter how trivial. That’s a win. I hope you will be inspired to advocate for and take some time for yourself too!