I’m a little bit afraid to admit this, but I finally feel like I’m moving out of my burnout phase.
Afraid – because I’ve hoped for this before. I wrote about it at the beginning of 2020…and then the world forced me and a lot of other people into hiding and getting smaller. Maybe forced is too strong a word, or feels victimizing, but the world didn’t feel safe to explore and there were limited choices for moving forward. It felt like the safest place to be and grow was inside rather than outside. The reemergence from burning out into creating and expanding didn’t – and couldn’t – really happen like I’d hoped and planned.
My sense for the past three years was that they were for the deepest type of healing. Spending a lot of time alone and not in physical proximity to many other humans during the pandemic gave me space to get to really know myself, to become comfortable with myself. And sometimes that felt agonizing, like I wasn’t doing enough to move forward, like I wasn’t exactly burned out anymore but I was still somehow stuck. What I couldn’t see was that removing all of the other people, opinions, ideas, and validation would make space to figure out what I actually want for myself.
When we moved to Austin, someone described it as moving into a bigger container, one that I’d have to grow into. In my head, I imagined that container was a flower pot and I was a seed, tiny and small in a mass of earthy darkness, not knowing yet if it was safe to put down roots or where the edges were. And in a different metaphorical sense, I had no idea where my personal edges were; boundaries were something everyone suggested, but I had no idea how to set my own. What I know now is that it was all so much bigger than moving or burnout. There was/is trauma to heal, some I’ve shared and some I haven’t.
At the heart of all of this is a growing sense that choice is a type of power, and removing anyone’s choice is a way of removing their power and agency and some part of their humanity. Feeling like you don’t have choices, or even good choices, is a type of soul death and desperation. So much of my burnout and stuckness was not being able to see the choices I did have – and not having the energy to move toward them even if I could. It felt easier and safer to give up my agency and put faith in magical thinking – waiting for someone or something to drop out of the sky or show up to offer me a way out – and staying in situations where I could rely on other people to tell me what to do, because I didn’t know how or felt too afraid to trust myself. And I can hold that with compassion, because I know that these parts developed to help me survive. They just aren’t working anymore.
What I’m coming to understand is that healing isn’t just something you do to fix yourself or get back to normal. It’s a process of creating safety first, learning to trust yourself again through approval, and then letting yourself choose what you want for yourself without shame (and having real space in which to do this work – something that shouldn’t be available only to those with privilege, but to everyone).
And the reason this time feels different is because it feels alive and full of energy. These roots that I’ve been growing are healthy and strong; they truly want to expand into this pot and take up space. They no longer feel tender and fragile, but hearty and resilient.