Burnout Feels Like

Drowning

Like flinging and flailing and gasping for breath. Some days it feels like I’m floating facedown in the water. Waiting for rescue or waiting for death.

I can’t even remember what it felt like to swim.

Defeat

Burnout tells me leaving my job and moving to Guatemala is the ultimate failure, not a dream fulfilled. 

Like I’ve fought the battle and lost.

Like I’ve given up on getting better.

Not that I have failed, but that I am failure, will always be a failure.

Depression

Like not sleeping, not hoping, not caring.

Like laziness and anxiety, lethargy and restlessness, all rolled into one.

And crying, lots and lots of crying.

Loss

Like losing my dream job.

Losing my identity.

Losing my passion.

Losing my joy.

Losing my self-efficacy.

Losing my mind.

Burnout feels like I’ve turned into a drama queen. 

Writing this I know I sound melodramatic, but that’s what burnout has done to me. It really feels like this, and most days I can’t see past it. Most days it’s the only story I believe. The only story I have energy to believe.

It’s why I started this blog—to share a different story, a better story. To share the story of God’s transforming love. To share a story that doesn’t end in the burnout and the failing and the flailing. To remind myself that, as hard as it is to see past all of this, I can hope for the future. That the God who opened the doors for my dream job for a time will again plant the seed of hope and joy and passion in my heart. That He is not done with me. That He does not fail. That He does not flounder. That He will not give up on me.

That He will restore my joy.

Before Jesus started his ministry, God said of him: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” Matthew 3:17

Before Jesus performed miracles. Before he raised the dead. Before he called out the Pharisees. Before he fed the 5,000. Before he died on the cross. God was well pleased.

I know I’m no Jesus, but today I’d like to hope that God feels this way about all of his children. That God feels this way about me.

As I reflect on the poisons of burnout, I write in the antidote. I remember the Love. And I paste it on my mirror, write it in my journal, replace the endless word loop of criticism with this declaration of love. This is the story I will choose to believe. 

“This is my daughter, Aly, whom I love; with her I am well pleased.”

Goodbye Graces

I've finally done it. I've accomplished a feat I thought would never happen: I finally finished One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.

Wait, what? you ask. You've been talking up this book for months now and you haven't even read it all the way through?

Guilty as charged. 

When I find a book I love, that speaks my soul language, I can't rush it. Ann's the kind of writer that keeps me occupied with one paragraph, one line even, for days, weeks. 

Her obsession with eucharisteo, with giving thanks, for choosing to see life as gift, will--I hope--keep me occupied for a lifetime. 

Ann writes, "the only thing to rip out the tape echoing of self-rejection is the song of His serenade. One thousand gifts tuned me to the beat."

I've felt it too. One Thousand Gifts has tuned me to the beat. The rhythm of love. The heartbeat of joy. The grace of gratitude. 

It's the antidote to my burnout at work, my dissatisfaction with my body, my stress and busyness and discontent. Even the act of giving thanks is a gift. 

I ended the book, tummy down on a picnic blanket overlooking a duck pond on a reading lunch date I pulled from my "Bucket bucket" which was inspired by Ann's commitment to counting gifts. 

These last two months before I move to Guatemala, leave my job, I am choosing to be present. Out of a bucket of uncertain tasks, I daily embark on challenges that promise certain joy. 

Here's my week of joy in pictures: 

Take a reading lunch break with Becky to the pond-- where I finished One Thousand Gifts.

Write notes to everyone (in the office that is).

Have a picnic on the grass.

Dress like a coworker day.

I found joy in quiet moments, in spending time with ducks--who doesn't love ducks?--, in slack lining and bocce ball tossing with coworkers, in Bananagrams and note writing. I end this week filled. And for that I am thankful. 

Where did you find joy this week?

What to Expect When You're Expecting

My "Bucket Bucket"

--Expecting to leave a job, that is.

As of today, Friday May 4th, I have 40 days left at my job. Yes, I've started a countdown, but not in a I-can't-wait-to-get-out-of-here kind of way. Like Ann Voskamp's counting of gifts, I want to count my remaining days as an exercise in giving thanks. In choosing, deciding to see the gifts that await me. To open my palms to receive the graces. To open my eyes to capture joy.

As I anticipate my last 40 days at Plant With Purpose, I am expecting joy.

I was wary to blog about this because I've blocked enough wedding countdown updates on my own Facebook newsfeed to know that most people don't really want to read about my incremental journey toward freelancing bliss. However, I have a hunch that most people who read this blog would be interested to hear how choosing to see these days as opportunities for adventures instead of the final hours to trudge through is altering my attitude, multiplying my joy, and allowing me to be present in the midst of transition. Allowing me to see God where I am, enabling me to see God in where I've been, and preparing me to see God where I am going.

No, we didn't actually bring a keg back to the office.

To do this I've created a work Bucket List--a compilation of challenges and adventures I want to complete by my final day. My coworkers and I have jotted down suggestions on neon sticky notes and placed them in my newly coined "Bucket bucket" that sits on my desk.  At the end of every workday, I will pull out a challenge for the following day.

Thus far I've completed two challenges. On Wednesday, two of my coworkers and I trekked to the Karl Strauss brewery across the railroad tracks from our office--a lunchtime adventure we've been talking about for some months, but had never fulfilled. It turns out the brewery doesn't have a tasting room, but we had a delightful dilly-dally nonetheless. We stretched our legs, traversed the wildflowers, and got to know our office neighborhood a little better. We ended up back at our business park deli to enjoy Coke Zeros, baklava, and a chummy time with our Executive Director.

Yesterday my challenge was to go a day without making any cynical comments.

It was a quiet day.

Drinking Coke Zero instead of a Karl Stauss-- better for our waistlines and our productivity.

Today's challenge is to brainstorm the content for our quarterly newsletter. Now this may not sound like fun to most, but I absolutely LOVE coming up with creative content, and it's my last chance to impose my tree-mendous puns on our newsletter readers while I'm still the official Editor-In-Chief. Let the punning begin!

For the next 40 days I'll be sharing a bit about my bucket list at the end of each blog post--this way, if you so choose, you can ignore it and stick to the regularly scheduled bloggy ramblings.

I expect the next 40 days will fly by entirely too fast, will be filled with both sadness at leaving and impatience at staying, yet most of all, I am choosing to expect joy.