pause and release
on being tired.
For the last two months I’ve been on and off editing three different posts I’ve been really excited to share here, none of which have moved on past the “idea” phase.
But today is leap day, and seeing as this day only comes once every four years, I wanted a timestamp of today that I could look back at four years from now. So as much as I should get to eventually editing every draft that’s sitting unfinished, I will once again pretend none of those posts exists and start anew.
Things feel good and I dare say they may continue to feel even better — normally I’m too scared of jinxing things, but I’ve mostly let go of whatever will happen to me this year. I’ve had more good things happen to me these last 6 months than I can even count, but I may also be facing many disappointments soon, and I think I’m mostly okay with that too. I’ve realized that I feel good, not because so many things have worked out, but because every day that I choose to face the unbearable prospect of failure and still do the thing I want, I’ve already won.
The most recent problem now has been knowing when to stop; when to rest. Truth is, my body and mind are tired. More tired than I care to admit. Fatigue is as much an obstacle as fear is, I’m starting to realize. And while I may be learning how to deal with fear, I have no idea how to properly rest.
I thought I couldn’t spot burn out, or that it was a fancy word for excuses, but my head feels unbearably heavy and my mind almost permanently clouded.
When most of my recent approaches to facing fear have been to “show up, no matter what” or “show up every day" or “show up, no excuses,” how do I account for my body being legitimately tired? What do I do when showing up to so many things at once, everyday, is unsustainable?
I wish I had the answers, and usually I come into these posts with a more concrete reflection, but you’ll be disappointed to know that is not the case today.
I wake up every day, and I’m a little stressed, a little nervous, and I just want to get over whatever I’m currently facing: the upcoming presentation, the looming deadline, the decision dates… The stress makes my head hurt sometimes, and it makes sleep a little harder. I feel thankful to have things that matter. To want to do well and to be scared of the outcome feels so delightfully human. But I’m also incredibly tired, and my brain and body are aching for a pause. It is probably why I haven’t written in months — writing these takes time, and a surprisingly steady mind.
So I’m trying not to shy away from acknowledging I’m tired. I’m doing my best. I feel surprisingly undisturbed by the fact I’m tired, and moreso unsure how to treat it.
As much as my tiredness is concerning, I also think this burnout is a good thing for me, weird as it is to say. Showing up everyday, no matter what, has taught me most things take more time and effort than one can imagine. So I’m in no rush to get where I want in life, but I do want the journey to be enjoyable and sustainable, and whatever I’m doing is clearly too much.
I have no idea how to successfully deal with burnout, but it seems like I’m in the perfect circumstance to find out — that much I can be thankful for.
Thanks for reading and I’ll see you in March (my favorite month). Happy leap day!
Much love,
Nicole🌊
p.s., If you liked this longform reflection, you might also enjoy “Prioritizing, and attempting (?) to downsize hobbies”
Quote of the week
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
Theodore Roosevelt