Hello Ms. Burnout

“Hello darkness, my old friend.I’ve come to talk with you again.Because a vision softly creeping,Left its seeds while I was sleeping.And the vision that was planted in my brain,Still remains.Within the sound of silence.“

— Paul Simon

I have cycled through periods of burnout too many times to count. I thought I had learned how not to abuse my mind and body in this way. I have slowed my pace and learned to manage my time with the mindset of a marathoner — not an entrepreneurial sprinter.

This occurred during the first ten years of my choice to follow business ownership instead of seeking full-time employment. If I had not learned to structure my time to include rest, recovery, and an oasis for learning and sharing I would have collapsed early on. During the recent pandemic years, I learned once more to marathon. I needed to shift and sprint with the volume of change and adaptation required to stay safe. But that emergency turned into a long-term, never going back change in our lives, requiring the pace and mindset of the marathon runner.

I did not notice that the stress and unplanned life interruptions that consistently rained down upon me — and on those I helped to support — were slowly, drip by drip, melting away my well-being and building up layer, upon layer of stress. I became stiff and rigid in my flexibility and resilience.

My response to hardship and challenge is to simply put my head down and plow.

I don’t complain. I might reframe and try to find the silver lining to any difficulty. I depend upon my reserve of super energy, positivity, and hope to carry me through.

What I could not see was that my reserves were being depleted. All the red lights on me — the vehicle I drive through each day — were madly blinking off and on. Friends and colleagues expressed their observations, observations delicately laced with concern. I was listening but didn’t know how to get off the merry-go-round of life and work.

I am not big on abdication. I don’t have the luxury of staying in bed and pulling the covers over my head — my dogs motivate me to rise early and start my day NOW!

I have experienced that if I don’t listen to my body, my body will take charge and shut down my forward motion.

The feedback was clear, constant, and getting louder by the minute.

Thus came the metaphor over and over and over again. “Leslie, please take time. Put your oxygen mask on before attending to anyone else. Please.”

Okay, Okay, Okay. I am getting the message loud and clear.

However. Do you know how hard it is to plan an exit? Even one that is just short-term.

It takes weeks to button down everything that needs to be done, delegated, or taken off the list.

During the planning, packing, transferring responsibility, and amassing the right resources I always ask myself this question: “Wouldn’t it be easier just to stay put?”

• Can you relate?

• Please let me know: Am I the only one who loops through this self-oriented conversation?

During that time of change, I was running out of time to do everything that needed to be finished. So, I figured out the priorities. I happily transferred some responsibility. But, I still packed a working suitcase and have proudly established a small working area in my hotel room overlooking blue water and sunny skies.

I have relocated but will I change some habits and attend to myself?

It is my first day in a place where everyone has come to put their feet in the sand, face to the sun, and give over to the steel drum music.

My personal goal is to manifest a little work, a little play, and a little rest. And let the layers of stress melt away to once again, uncover the best version of myself.

I have packed my journal, some good books, some client files, vitamins, and enough skin care products to start a spa.

Others might not think that traveling alone is much fun. I benefit from the quiet. And, there are friends to be made in every step of the relocation. The first set of new friends was made on the flight from Cleveland to Nashville. A married couple that I have a feeling will be in my friendship circle for the rest of my life. Time flies when a good conversation with new friends happens.

I am practicing my Spanish. Eating like a native. Moving at a sloth’s pace. Making funny faces at the children I meet along the way. Practicing diplomacy.

By the end of the week, I hope to be fully committed to reclaiming my balance and all of the benefits that come with being in a new place, stepping out of my day-to-day, and letting go and letting come.

I want to find a new metaphor that replaces the “Put your oxygen mask on first” metaphor for ensuring a life of self-care, self-compassion, and balance.

Any ideas?