When Burnout knocks, are you answering?

How many times has your To-Do list been longer than ever, yet as the week nears the end, you feel nervous that you haven’t checked off enough to feel a sense of accomplishment? You find yourself on either side of the coin: either give yourself a pat on the back for efficiently getting enough done or enter a shame spiral of self-criticism for falling off track and not meeting your goals.

But what is this inner competition really about? Who ever wins this game? And at what cost?

Recently I had an eye-opening brush with burnout. This woke me up to change my relationship with how I work and live.

Our culture deeply values productivity. We are pushed (and push ourselves) beyond capacity. We sacrifice time with those we love, our health and wellbeing, and connection with things that nourish us outside of our accomplishments.

Burnout is an epidemic. It has become normal or even expected. We were sold the idea that hard work means success. We must always be ready to respond.  We must always know what is happening. We must always be available. Everything is urgent.  

As we work—whether through employment, caregiving, or both—how are we caring for ourselves to prevent burnout? Is that even a thing? What happens to all those goals, projects, and those we care for if our nervous system is on overdrive and we find ourselves suddenly with nothing left to give? 

This is what happened to me recently, and it shook my world.

 It had to because I wasn’t listening.

After addressing some physical symptoms with my doctor, I knew it was time for a mental health reset. I turned to my toolbox to decide what I truly needed in this moment. Over the years, I have developed what I call my spiritual toolbox. It is a system of practices I use regularly to support an embodied and conscious way of living. This toolbox continues to evolve, as I do, but when I am having an inner crisis, I go back to the simplest tools to support me in returning to a state of regulation and inner peace. When I am in crisis, safety is the first priority. I have learned enough about the nervous system through my work as an NP as well as my devotion to collective trauma healing in our world to know that I had to prioritize a sense of inner safety. I knew my system had been running on overdrive for far too long and was now in a freeze state. This felt so dark within my being that my fear stories were on repeat in my mind and were deeply felt in my body. So, I learned to listen to the fear and what is was asking of me.

Through meditation, deep rest, daily walks in nature, and being in constant communication with Spirit, I slowly began to return to life. It took a few weeks, but I kept riding the waves of emotions with steadfast courage and angelic support. I showed myself self-compassion as I learned that patience is an action too. I was being given a Universal opportunity to learn what it really means to be still. This was no doubt a Divine assignment.    

The strange part is that although I was surprised to have reached the depths of physical and mental burnout, no one else was. When I shared my experience with my mother, my sister, and a close friend, they all said they were surprised at how I had been getting by. I was shocked. Sure I had a lot going on, but who doesn't? I told myself I had no choice. I simply had been rising to the meet the obstacles that had been placed in front of me.

What I didn’t see as clearly was the fact that I had been adding to the chaos of life with struggles of my own making. I had been overriding boundaries, lacking patience and trust, trying to control every damn thing, and taking on too much. I had been trying to do so much and the juggle became a way of life that I didn’t even question. I got used to the chaos and that is when I started to run into trouble. Even though I wanted to make certain things happen, I had to make some difficult but necessary decisions. If my body told me it could wait---I listened. This felt like going against the grain of how we are taught to navigate life and work, but the old way was not working and was affecting my health. Forging a new normal is not easy and feels wobbly, but all new things do.

I’m learning to take my own medicine.