Photo by Ganesh Partheeban on Unsplash
For the first time, I played with the notion that I may never recover. Perhaps the energy of old will never return. My new existence is one of exhaustion and management.
This may sound defeatist, but I don’t think it is. I do believe that I will recover, slowly, but surely. But considering how long this has gone on, and realistically how far off anyone’s expectation this has been, it’s not beyond the realms of possibility to think that I may never get better.
Rather than sounding bleak, there is a sense of simplifcation that comes with such a thought. No longer do I need to constantly find this something that I need to fight. No longer do I need to feel like I am delaying my life to a magical ‘when’ time. It allows me to be present, and not worry too much about the future. There is a freedom in this.
What has really struck me around burnout in western culture is how much this becomes a constant battle with your health. It’s as if we are a captain of a ship, furiously turning one way or another. Maybe one miracle drug will solve all. When that doesn’t work, maybe some ancient meditation practice will be the cure. Many of us have been sent into burnout due to micromanagement, but we may be doing the exact same thing to our bodies.
The double edged sword of our modern lives is that there is always more information. If you’re not satisfied, there is an endless burrow of further things to research. The idea that people can get sick at any point has disappeared from the modern psyche.
When we are sailing our ship through the rocky terrain of life, sometimes it’s better to flow with the viscous waves rather than constantly trying to fight them. People often prefer to try directly into a torment, rather than admit to themselves that such a storm is brewing. The damage will be done, no matter how hard we pretend it’s not there. But being in constant denial will only heighten the pain when it inevitably comes.
This is not a post in favour of fatalism. Some people do just give up. To them, the torment spells doom. Perhaps they may see the pain as deserved, or over-interpret it as a sign that nothing can ever be good. These aren’t healthy positions. Life is too short to give up on it.
There is a middle path. Being conscious about the realities of the world, whilst also doing what we can about it. I fear that it is a point that is too nuanced for people in this day and age.
But all I can do is practice what I preach. Be cognisant that I cannot control the world. Surrender to its torments, but not surrender to myself