Blooming from Burnout: One half of the creative cycle is destruction.

I love the construction phase of creating. Dream the thing, construct the thing, go after the thing with rabid energy.  All is possible during this time.  

At some point when the creation needs only maintenance, I’ll sense I need a break.  I ignore it.  Every time.

It’s not until I’m dangling at the end of my rope, feeling like I can’t take it anymore that I’ll finally start to think about changing things up.  (How many of you have come to me in the same place?!)

This bad habit has led me to severe burnout on multiple occasions. With careers, creative endeavors, even house remodeling.  Which then prompts me to throw a hand grenade into the situation.

Most of the time, the hand grenade was 100% necessary.  I needed to leave the job or sell the house before I could glimpse possibilities of what might come next.  Recently, though, all I needed was a break.

It’s hard to acknowledge burnout when you’ve spent years working toward an achievement, be it a degree, a successful business with a solid client base or a relationship.  

It’s baffling to get burned out WHEN YOU LOVE WHAT YOU DO.  But guess what.  It happens.

By August of 2023, after 5 1/2 years, I was so burned out of my much beloved readings and group events business, I had to take months off. 

Six months later, Dad passed away unexpectedly.  There went any energy I started to build back up. 

People told me, “Just don’t work so hard,” “Do readings differently,” and “Don’t be so demanding on yourself.”  My favorite:  “Just have fun!  Why do you take what you do so seriously?”

Not an option.  I love what I do, and folks have come to expect a certain level of quality in my work.  Lowering my standards is never an option.  

Taking a much needed break was. I just returned from a week in Charleston, SC, where I gave readings to about thirty people.  I felt on fire and loved every single minute of precious time with clients.

No more burnout.  

I’m here today to give you permission to give yourself a breather.  Dismantle and destruct the thing if necessary.  Pull out the hand grenade.  Or just hibernate.  

Don’t worry about what you, your job or your endeavor will look like when you resurface.  

You don’t have to go it alone.  Nothing blooms without assistance from the soil, the rain and the sunshine. 

Thank you so much for being here.  Let me know if I can help you breathe, spark your fire or help you bloom.

Book a session with me here.