Managing (not ending) burnout.

In my recent discussions about burnout, (see the last two articles) I've approached the topic in a more analytical and calculated manner. However, this time, I want to delve into a different perspective—a more heartfelt and experiential one, based on personal and shared encounters with burnout. So, let's explore this together.

Although we've pinpointed the root of burnout as the disparity between our ideals and our reality (which creates cynicism, ineffectiveness and fatigue), it's crucial to acknowledge that closing this gap entirely might be an unattainable goal. Just as friction is a given in any machine, some tension between our ideals and our actual circumstances is to be expected. The key is to manage this gap with a sense of realism. This means embracing the natural challenges that arise in any venture that involves human beings, and accepting that our lofty dreams may frequently, be subject to exaggeration. Think of it as an engineer addressing friction by applying lubrication. In the same way, we must find ways to ease the natural frictions, tensions, and gaps that emerge when our ideals and reality don't perfectly align.

In other words, this approach doesn't entail abandoning your idealism and adopting a resigned "It is what it is" attitude. Rather, it involves a continuous effort to bring your dreams to fruition while recognizing your limitations; it acknowledges that you are not all-knowing or all-powerful, and that unexpected twists and turns may arise in even the most well-crafted plans.

Nevertheless, burnout happens when we relinquish our ideals and dismiss our plans as unattainable fantasies. This despair is a dangerous path to tread. Any endeavor is likely to go awry once the plan is abandoned, and every journey is bound to fail when the destination is lost or forsaken. Stephen Covey's wisdom in "beginning with the end in mind" holds true. Your plan, your ideal, is of paramount importance as it guides every step of your journey. Letting go of it is akin to getting lost, a feeling all too familiar to those who have experienced burnout.

So, to find your way back from burnout, it's essential to reclaim your plan, to rediscover your ideal, your ultimate destination. One effective method is to ask yourself the "Spice Girls question," as suggested by Stephen Bungay in "The Art of Action": "Tell me what you want, what you really really want!" Maintain a crystal-clear vision of your goal, especially because it tends to blur over time.

As if to emphasize this point, both classic and lesser-known literature is full of examples of rediscovering one's ideal, one's calling, and one's initial masterplan. Whether it's Bilbo Baggins' "There and Back Again," Bastian Balthazar Bux's "Neverending Story," or Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's "The Little Prince," the message is clear: burnout necessitates a rediscovery. It's not merely a return to our initial state but a transformation into something more worthy of our grand plans. It's as though we needed to be tested by the fire, broken by the world, in order to be reforged into a being truly deserving of our masterplan. Could it be that we experienced burnout because we couldn't accept the gap, couldn't allow ourselves to be shattered and remade into what our ideals demand?

In short, how do we "end" burnout? We can't! But we can manage it. How? By avoiding cynicism toward your ideals. Understand that the gap between them and reality often exists because our foresight is limited, and unforeseen challenges lie ahead. Equally important is not harboring bitterness toward your current reality. Cultivate hope in its potential to change. Embrace that gap and the tensions it brings as an opportunity for self-renewal, a chance to reshape both yourself and the situation. In doing so, you embark on a journey of transformation, emerging as a being better suited to fulfill the aspirations you hold dear.

For all of you facing burnout, I hope this helps. I know it's not easy.