Unfolding Insight 6: On giving from what we never had
Hello friends, it’s been a minute.
March disappeared in a miasma of travel planning for my trip to the States, layered with anxiety about what I’d find at the border and beyond. I was probably a little too paranoid in the precautions I took, but it seems that we are — yet again — living in unprecedented times. I surely was glad to be able to answer border patrol’s unusually detailed questions…
April, on the other hand, has so far been a month of deep work and the gentle integration such work demands.
I attended AoA’s Ground Breakers retreat in beautiful Sonoma County over the first week of the month. Alongside 11 others, I became intimately acquainted with the beauty of heartbreak — and its power to strip us down to our very essence. I’ll have more to say on this in time, but for now I’m revelling in all the questions the experience has raised and giving myself the time and space to let it all percolate.
I’ve also been reflecting on where this journey towards a coaching practice all started, and how burnout forced me to look the matters of life in the face.
So often the narrative about the condition focuses on what the sufferer lacks in the moment: resilience, strength, grit, or — my American English favourite — moxie.
But what if the truth is both harder and more liberating?
What if we never had what it takes to fulfil a particular role in the first place?
That’s the question I explore in the story below. Let me know if it resonates.
Sending love from somewhere just over the Golden Gate,
Drew
It was late summer, 2021 and I was sweating.
Not because of the heat — the worst of that hot Amsterdam summer had passed.
No, I was sweating because I was trying to write a presentation and failing.
Miserably.
It should have been easy. I’d done it a hundred times before. People trusted me with this stuff. I had a reputation. I was a safe — and occasionally brilliant — pair of hands.
But this time was different.
Nothing was landing. I couldn’t find an angle that was fun or interesting or even merely competent.
The partner who was going to present my work at an international trade show couldn’t have cared less. His reviews of the drafts, when he bothered to send them, were like a stale fart left in a lift: insubstantial, but nonetheless unpleasant.
And frankly, I couldn’t have cared less either. The topic was an industry fad that just wouldn’t die, but “we” — the firm — needed to care. Needed to find a positive angle where there was none.
With each passing day, I sank deeper and deeper into a depression that had been bubbling away for months.
But that depression was pointing to something far deeper, a malaise that had been with me for years.
I wanted to make a life in big consulting work. Who wouldn’t!? The money! The travel! The status! That equity partner carrot an irresistible inch from your nose!
But after spending years pretending to care about things that I didn’t believe in, I just couldn’t keep it up.
The charade was over.
The mask began to fall.
I used to think that burnout was about giving too much of ourselves. About working too hard.
Now I know its roots lie in giving from what we never had to begin with.
If this resonates, I get it.
If you’ve woken up and found yourself trying to give a shit — and failing — day after day, month after month, I’ve been there. And I made it through.
I’ll venture a bet you can, too.
All it takes is reconnecting to what brings us alive.
If you’re feeling burnt out, unsure of what to do next, or grappling with some of life’s bigger questions, you’re not alone. If you feel called to dive a little deeper, I’d love to chat. You can reply to this email, or schedule some time in my calendar here.
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