Beyond Burnout: Finding Your Way Back to What You Love

The dream you put on hold is the work that will save you

"Amy" came to our coaching session with what looked like a mid-life crisis from the outside. Seventeen years in publishing, entering her forties, and feeling utterly behind. She'd worked paycheck to paycheck in a notoriously low-paying industry, with "nothing to show for it."

"I feel like there's something bigger for me to be doing," she told me, her voice carrying that particular exhaustion of someone who's been giving their energy away for too long. "But when I think about it, I get overwhelmed. Then scared. Then more stuck."

Here's what stopped me cold: When I asked what inspired her to enter publishing, she said, "I thought I'd be a writer."

Seventeen years of being adjacent to her dream. Seventeen years of midwifing other people's creative processes while her own writing voice went silent.

Sound familiar? Whether you're in publishing, tech, teaching, or any field where you facilitate others' success—this pattern shows up everywhere.

The Helper's Hidden Heartbreak

Here's what I see happening with talented people who feel burnt out despite their competence:

They're professionally empathetic to the point of depletion. Amy described her role: "I feel like a therapist... I'm constantly pivoting between emotionally charged emails... I'm a cheerleader." She's so busy holding space for others' emotions, there's no space left for her own creative work.

They've confused proximity with practice. Working in publishing didn't make Amy a writer any more than working in a hospital makes you a doctor. She was close to her dream but never in it—a special kind of torture for creative souls.

They're experts at giving others what they deny themselves. The bitter irony? Amy spent her days encouraging writers, editing their work, believing in their potential. Every skill she needed for her own creative practice, she was pouring into others' cups.

They mistake exhaustion for evidence they're not meant for more. "When I do have time to sit down and do an actual task, I'm completely drained," Amy said. But depletion isn't proof you can't do something—it's proof you're spending your energy in the wrong place.

What Actually Happens When You Feed Your Own Fire First

The most successful career pivots I've witnessed didn't start with LinkedIn updates or new certifications. They started with people doing one radical thing: giving themselves what they'd been giving everyone else.

Here's what changes when you stop being the cheerleader and start being the player:

1. You discover that imposter syndrome is just self-trust deficiency. Amy had been in publishing for 17 years but felt like she didn't "really know the business." But when you're not honoring your own desires, of course you feel like a fraud. You're living someone else's career.
   

2. You realize your "helping" might be hiding. All that emotional labor Amy was doing? It was safer than facing the blank page. Sometimes we stay busy saving others so we don't have to risk saving ourselves.
   

3. You find out that muscle memory is real. "I loved writing," Amy said, using past tense. But creative ability doesn't disappear—it atrophies. And what's atrophied can be rebuilt, stronger than before.
   

4. You learn that morning changes everything. When you start your day doing what you love—even for 15 minutes—you create an energetic shield against the chaos that follows. You've already proven your priorities to yourself.

The Creative Recovery Framework

Here's how to reclaim the dream you put on hold:

Step 1: Protect and Release

You can't create if you're carrying everyone else's emotions.

Amy was absorbing her authors' anxieties, her colleagues' stress, her boss's demands. I taught her two simple practices:

• The Release Ritual: After every emotionally charged interaction, wash your hands mindfully. As you do, consciously end that chapter. This takes 30 seconds and changes everything.

• The Morning Shield: Before your day begins, visualize golden paint coating your body—beautiful, shimmery, protective. You can still feel deeply, but not at your own expense.

Try this: Next time you finish a draining interaction, immediately go wash your hands. Notice how different the rest of your day feels.

Step 2: Track Your Energy, Not Your Time

Amy thought she had no time to write. But time wasn't the problem—energy was.

Instead of a time audit, do an energy inventory:

• Where did my energy go today?

• Where was energy given to me?

• What's in my control, influence, or completely outside my control?

Amy discovered she was spending enormous energy on things outside her control (others' reactions) and almost none on what she could control (her own creative practice).

Step 3: Make Creating Easier Than Not Creating

"I don't have time" is rarely true. "I don't have the setup for success" usually is.

Amy worked better with "false urgency" and accountability. So we designed her perfect writing scenario:

• Virtual co-writing sessions (body doubling)

• Morning writing before the emotional chaos began

• Starting with just 60 minutes per week, broken into manageable chunks

The magic question: What would make showing up so easy that not showing up would be harder?

Step 4: Demystify the Dream

Amy had put "being a writer" on such a pedestal, it felt unreachable. But pedestals are meant to be toppled.

I asked her to have vulnerable conversations with successful writers about:

• Their messy first drafts

• Their financial fears

• Their own imposter syndrome

• The mundane reality of their writing life

When you realize your heroes also struggle, your dreams become achievable.

Step 5: Reframe Progress

Amy was measuring success by publishing outcomes. But that's like measuring fitness by Olympic medals.

Real progress looks like:

• Did I show up to the page?

• Did I protect my energy today?

• Did I have one uncomfortable conversation?

• Did I honor my desire, even imperfectly?

This Week's Experiment

Choose your own "I thought I'd be a..." dream:

1. Name it plainly. What did you think you'd be before life got practical? Don't judge it—just name it.

2. Find your minimum viable practice. What's the smallest version of this dream you could honor? (For writing: one paragraph. For music: one song. For art: one sketch.)

3. Create your accountability structure. Who could you do this alongside? (Virtual or in-person—the key is not being alone with your resistance.)

4. Track your resistance. When you think about doing this thing, what story does your brain tell? Write it down. That's your growth edge.

5. Start before you're ready. Pick a date this week. Set a timer for 20 minutes. Begin badly. Begin anyway.

The Truth About "Feeling Behind"

Amy felt behind at forty. But here's what I told her that made her go quiet:

"You're right where you need to be for the lessons that will be most impactful for the second half of your life."

The first half of your life is about accumulating—skills, experiences, patterns, wounds. The second half is about integration—taking all that material and making something meaningful from it.

Amy didn't waste seventeen years in publishing. She was gathering material. Learning the industry. Understanding story. Building relationships. Developing endurance.

Now she gets to use all of that—not in service of others' dreams, but her own.

What We Don't Talk About Enough

That urge you feel toward something creative? The one you've been practical about? The one you've been "realistic" about?

That urge is intuition. It's desire that's deeply seated and spiritual. To deny it isn't mature—it's abandonment of self.

And when you abandon yourself long enough, you end up in someone else's life, wondering how you got there.

Your Creative Recovery Toolkit

When you think "I don't have time":

• Remember: You have time for what you're already doing

• Ask: What would I stop doing if my creative work was non-negotiable?

• Try: 15 minutes in the morning before anyone needs you

When you think "It's too late":

• Remember: Julia Cameron wrote "The Artist's Way" at 43

• Consider: Your life experience is material, not lost time

• Notice: How "too late" protects you from "too scary"

When you think "I'm not good enough":

• Remember: You're comparing your beginning to others' middle

• Truth: Sucking at something meaningful beats succeeding at something soul-crushing

• Challenge: Get comfortable with being bad at something that matters

When you get overwhelmed:

• Shrink the commitment (60 minutes → 15 minutes)

• Find an accountability buddy (fear shared is fear halved)

• Remember: Overwhelming means it matters

The Conversation That Changed Everything

At the end of our session, Amy said something that gave me chills:

"Even writing to you felt like a first step. I felt proud of myself. It gave me this little fire that, okay, if I do something about it, things can happen."

That's it. That's the whole secret.

You don't need to see the whole staircase. You just need to take the first step and notice the tiny fire it lights.

Then you tend that fire. You feed it with small, consistent actions. You protect it from the winds of other people's needs.

And one day, you wake up and realize: You're not behind. You're not too late. You're exactly where you need to be—at the beginning of actually living your life.

Ready to turn advice into action?

The insights above are just the beginning. I've compiled a list of next steps based on this post so you can live what you've learned. For just $5/month, subscribers get access to weekly Progress Plans, 7-days of easeful practices to help you integrate better habits for a better work-life.