A client of mine (let’s call her Mara) said something recently that’s stayed with me.

We were talking about exhaustion and the “I know I’m smart and capable, so why does everything feel so shaky?” feeling we both had. She gave a bitter little laugh and said:

“So much of the certainty I’ve built—and I think most of us build in life—is based on compiling evidence.

‘This person’s going to show up because they always show up.’
‘This email sequence works because it has ten times before.’

But lately… it’s like all that evidence is being chipped away.”

I had an immediate ping of recognition. Yes! THAT! Exactly that!
And right behind it came the exhaustion of this moment, of working so hard toward such unclear results.

You probably know that feeling too, because I’m betting you’re like me, thinking, If I plan well enough or think hard enough, I can create control. I can outsmart the uncertainty.

You’ve probably got your own internal myth that worked OK… until it didn’t.

Mine was:
If I keep putting good work into the world, the audience will grow on its own. (Not this year, baby!)

For Mara, it looked like setting intentionally-ambitious goals “just to have the motivation” for intense work sprints, only to collapse on the other side, as she put it, “because you don’t actually get the delusional dream.”

Raise your hand if you’ve tried (or thought of trying) any of the following:

• color-coded, synced calendars

• reading all the think pieces

• changing jobs or cities or countries

• attending every protest or political event until you’re running on fumes

• saying no to every. single. unnecessary. thing.

You’ve been trying to be a good colleague, a good friend, a good parent, a good human, no matter what curve balls are thrown your way.

Of course you’re exhausted.
Of course you can’t focus.
Of course it feels like you should be able to handle this, and also like you absolutely cannot.

Your exhaustion isn’t a sign of failure.
It’s a sign you’re using tools that don’t meet the moment we’re in.

You’ve been operating under the idea that your individual brain can out-think systemic uncertainty.

But that’s not how it works. And that doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you.

It means the era of “figure it out alone” is over.

Your tools were built for a more predictable time than the one we’re living in.

And when you stop blaming yourself and let that idea go, a softer question opens up:

If it was never my job to engineer certainty, what else might be possible?

That question opens the door to a new way of navigating times like these.

I’ve been exploring it deeply and putting something exciting together. More on that soon.

Supporting you in your mythbusting,
Rachel

P.S. What’s one belief, habit, or system you’ve relied on that suddenly stopped working this year? Say it “out loud” by replying and letting me know.