Transcript
This is the mini solo series, The Things We Carry, small moments and themes that keep me thinking way after the conversations on the Life Shift podcast. Hey there, I've been listening to people share their line in the sand moments for a long time now, and certain ideas kind of linger with me, and so these solo episodes are where I can gather those pieces together and share them with you and we can learn out loud. So thanks for spending a few minutes with me in these new solo episodes. I've been thinking a lot about burnout and not just being really tired, but the deep kind that it sneaks up on you after years of pushing, of doing what you think you have to do, what you think will keep you safe or really make you enough. And it's super messy, right? There's no clear start. There's no clear finish line. I'm still figuring out even as I sit here talking to you. I remember talking with Katie, who lived through a wildfire that didn't just burn her house, but it made it unlivable. She described the surreal experience of having a house that was still there, but it was toxic. Something she had to go in and empty with gloves and masks. That really stuck with me. How do you recover from something that's still there, but no longer safe? And the exhaustion she described, the kind where work just isn't sustainable anymore. She didn't just quit. she shifted. She stepped down from being the head baker, moved into managing the inventory of what was lost, and leaned into counseling. And I think that's so important to point out. I know that feeling of reaching a point where the old ways of coping no longer work, where you have to find some kind of new way to show up. But you're also so tired that it's hard to imagine where to start. And then there was Alan, who talked about the checklist society lays out for us. graduate, get a job, hustle harder, prove your worth with productivity. And for so long, that was my blueprint. And Alan said it took him decades to realize that rest mattered, to see that not all hustle is healthy. It got me thinking about how many of us carry that inherited script. The one that says slowing down is a weakness, or the only way to be worthy is to keep moving faster. That grind culture, the busyness, it's real and totally wears us down slowly. until something breaks or we can't keep up anymore. That moment is never neat or tidy. It's heavy and confusing and sometimes lonely. And Heidi's story hit pretty hard too. She talked about being a doer, always in motion, squeezing the marrow out of every day because of the fear that there might not be many days left. Then the slow unraveling, losing abilities, losing identity, resisting the truth of needing to heal. m and she made a vow to believe in her body's ability to heal. Not because it was easy, but because it was necessary. That commitment to believe, even when doubt is louder, was really so powerful. And it made me think, how often do we give ourselves permission to hope, to heal, to rest, or do we keep pushing, hoping we can outrun the tide? All these stories about burnout on the life shift, they don't come with neat formulas or quick fixes. They come with the reality that recovery from burnout or trauma or grief, it's really a winding path. Sometimes it's heavy with resistance, with setbacks, with the temptation to hide away or even to keep proving ourselves. But it's also filled with moments of courage, of tiny choices to show up differently, to ask for help, to say no, to believe we deserve more than exhaustion. I'm still on the path. I still wrestle with the pull to do too much. to be enough by pushing harder. But hearing these stories reminds me that change is possible and that it's okay to be in process. The rest is not a betrayal, but a lifeline. Maybe you're near a line in the sand too, that moment where you start to see the way you've been living isn't sustainable. It might be a quiet realization or a loud breaking point. And it might feel scary or hopeful or maybe even both. So wherever you are, want to invite you to notice that moment, to lean into it gently, to wonder what small step feels right for you today. Because you don't have to have it all figured out. You just have to take the next step, one breath at a time, and that can be enough.
