Song of the Week: The Joy - M&O

My mentor responded to my email with a text, “I’m on vacation, but do you need to meet right away?”  The answer was yes, but I told her it could wait.  I made a hard choice, set some serious work boundaries and personal boundaries I’m still not 100% convinced were right, and scheduled a meeting for a few days later.

“You’re tired.  Soul tired. You’re burned out.  When are you taking a break?” she asked.

Much like the last time I experienced burnout (3 years ago almost to the day), I didn’t know it until someone showed it to me.  I feel tired all of the time.  My work list grows, and I have no motivation to address it.  I muster the energy for a meeting or two, then spend the rest of the time on my phone on the couch.

Life is so hard right now.  We are retreating back into our corners as the delta variant comes out to play.  We pull the masks from the bottom of our bags and glove compartments.  My stash sitting by my front door is depleted again, sitting instead in the laundry basket waiting to be decontaminated.

Just like we wrote in January, 2021 has been hard for so many other reasons.  We finally memorialized our grandparents in April, a memorial I followed with a plane trip to see my dying uncle for the last time.  Allie’s cancer treatment stopped working, and she had to change it.  What was supposed to be a once-per-month visit turned into weekly 7-hour drives down and back up Michigan for her, and a full house for me for weeks on end.  My uncle passed away in May, and again I was in Seattle at the end of June.  More doctors appointments for Allie.  More family challenges for loved ones.  I could feel everything beginning to fray.

Then my father had a heart attack a few weeks ago, while my mom happened to be out of town.  My sisters, bless them, handled all the hospital and dog sitting details.  I didn’t have to go up right away.  I texted a friend and asked her to come over, “I’ve officially reached the end of my emotional bandwidth.”  That was the only day I cried.  But just like everything else in the past few months, I took a deep breath, kept on working, kept on showing up for family, kept on dodging Covid.

Work is also always hard.  I’m a diversity, equity, and inclusion consultant with an emphasis on racial equity.  During this time of polarization, the people I’m training and talking to already agree with me.  It’s not that they don’t have work to do - we all do.  But I witness our side of the aisle no more willing to bridge the gap than the other.  It’s hard to maintain hope.  It’s hard to believe in change when not everyone is at the table.  Suddenly, “Republican” is synonymous with voting for Trump, anti-vax, and anti-mask.  We refused to see nuance; the folks of color who have experienced generations of trauma from the medical care system who have every reason to be cautious (and are still wearing masks), the single-issue voters who will have me in their home for coffee, an entire group of people who have also been exploited by the system and are just looking for someone to blame for the generational wealth they will never see.  And trust me, 100% of democrats are not advocating for anti-racism, gender equity, or living wages.  The self-righteous banter from both sides only means we continue to expand the chasm disenfranchised folks fall into.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” I tell my mentor.  “How much longer is this my fight?  When do you give up?”

“You’re tired. Soul tired.  Here are the rules of your vacation.  Don’t make any decisions until afterward.”

Dearhearts, this is all terrible.  Sometimes just naming that life is hard is helpful.  I don’t know what is next, or when it will end, or what ways our lives and psyches will be changed forever.  But I love you.  I’m sending you a big hug or a high five or an elbow bump or a kiss on the cheek.  I won’t say I’m comforted by not being the only one.  I’m not at all.  I like a world with vibrant, happy people.  People living and not being afraid of dying by just going outside.  But the burnout is universal.  Let me be your mirror: that tiredness that won’t go away is a sign that you need a break.  When are you taking time off?  Where are you going?  When was the last time you turned off your phone/the internet/whatever and sat in peace and quiet?  When was the last time you went outside with only the intention of enjoying the sun?  Because that’s where you’ll find me now, loves.

I meet with a friend weekly to work on creative projects.  “Are you feeling this in all areas of your life?” he asks.  “No, actually I’ve been seeing someone who is amazing.”  “Speak on it!” And so we celebrated the bright spots.  Refocused on the life-giving energy.  I’m still tired, but there is beauty to be found.