Letter 121: Setting Things Down
When we don't know how to stop
You may also be a reader of Anne Helen Petersen, the author of the newsletter Culture Study; if so, you know what incredible work she creates. An author, podcaster and Substacker, Anne Helen makes her readers think deeply on a wide range of topics (everything from our passion for work to Rushtok to dahlia bulbs)—she covers it all. She’s a fellow Idahoan like me and grew up in a town not far from my hometown. I look forward to her work every week.
Fortuitously, Anne Helen also connected me to today’s writer, Alyson. Last fall, I came across Alyson and her newsletter, Do Less, Better, in one of Culture Study’s discussions and immediately connected with her ideas. I appreciated Alyson’s vulnerability and perspective—her willingness to slow down and look closely is a lost art in today’s go-go-go world. I hope what she offers here will resonate with you just as it did for me. —Molly
At my recent annual exam, my provider asked me about my mental health. I told her it was better than it had been. That I have a lot going on but I’m finding myself able to navigate okay.
“What do you do when you’re feeling down?” she asked.
“Oh, I write. And practice yoga. I’m drinking less.”
“That all sounds like good coping mechanisms,” she replied.
“Hmhmm,” I said. “Oh, and I was in counseling for almost a year a while ago.”
“When was that?”
I thought for a moment. “Um, from November 2021 to October 2022.”
“Oh, that recently!”
I blinked. Recently? That was ages ago. I barely remember the experience.
I’ve been on a journey of burnout recovery since the end of 2021. I intentionally call it a journey now because every time I think I’m officially recovered, I am reminded that I have a long way to go.
At first, I thought it would be enough to simply quit the job that (I thought) was causing my burnout. I was working in the political world, the first executive director of a local political committee doing more than any one individual can possibly do. While I was passionate about the work, it was taking a toll on me, physically and mentally. I had to step away.
So, I did. Problem solved.
I could refocus on the small, bootstrapped software company that my husband and I started.
We entered 2022 knowing it was our make-it-or-break-it year. We’d poured everything into the company, and it needed to start showing some growth. I was out of politics so it should not have been an issue.
Except, I was still exhausted.
I kept pushing anyway.
In the back of my mind, a thought was percolating. An acknowledgment that I could not push this hard anymore. I ignored it as best I could.
By the time fall rolled around, we knew our make-or-break year was a break. My husband started looking for and found a job. One that would allow us to set down the stress of financial instability. A job he found interesting and challenging and that provided us enough money to allow me to rest.
Maybe, just maybe, I could start feeling okay again. The bills were paid. I had a magical burnout recovery room, full of twinkle lights, books, and a very comfy lounging chair. I had put down politics. I had put down entrepreneurship.
This was good. I took a deep breath.
This was enough. I was recovered from burnout. Wasn’t I?
I wasn’t.
I’m beginning to see why recovering from burnout takes years.
Even as I set things down — politics, entrepreneurship — I picked up other things.
I couldn’t help it.
I literally didn’t know how to stop.
Our society, our culture, doesn’t want us to. We can’t be seen as “lazy.” If we’re not constantly producing, we aren’t contributing. We aren’t worthy. We aren’t enough.
I joined two boards, started a weekly newsletter, and then moved my ailing 75-year-old mother to live with me and my husband.
Yep, my burnout was well on its way out the door. Except…
Since then, I’ve had another realization on my journey. One that I thought I had learned already.
I must keep setting things down.
I must keep doing less.
The irony is not lost on me that I’m still learning this lesson, considering I’ve been working under the mantra of “do less, better” for years now.
Of course, I must do less.
By doing less, by saying no, I’m inviting the possibility of saying yes to things that truly matter.
For me, right now, that’s caring for my mom, who has a long health journey ahead of her. One that I intend to be at her side every step of the way.
And to do that care, I must invest in myself. That’s why I’m writing more. And doing yoga. And drinking less. All the things I told my healthcare provider I was doing.
Without these things, I would be a shell of a human. Lost in the sea of toxic productivity. Unable to see my worth.
Not knowing that I am, in fact, enough.
Alyson’s 5 Favorite Things
My sister-in-law introduced me to Evening in Missoula tea, a few years ago quite by happenstance. I’ve been in love with it ever since. There’s something magical in it.
I’ve been an “at-home” person since 2017 and I’m so grateful I came across Yoga with Adriene. I love her 30-day yoga journeys, but mostly, I just love hearing her words of affirmation every class. Her words are nourishment for the soul.
I’m not big on shopping just to shop, but whenever I’m in downtown Bozeman, Montana, I have to visit my favorite store, Heyday. There is something for everyone at this store, and it’s a great place to find gifts. I always know when someone is gifting me something from Heyday (the wrapping gives it away) and I know it’s going to be an amazing gift. (And yes, they ship across the country.)
The joy of cooking for me often comes into conflict with the fullness of my life, so when I found the cookbook Foolproof: Veggie One-Pot by Alan Rosenthal (at Heyday!), I was excited to have relatively quick, nourishing recipes to try. My favorite so far is the Baked Spanish Rice with Artichokes, Green Olives, and Roasted Red Peppers.
I could give you a very long list of my favorite books, but the one that is most worth sharing with you right now is Rest is Resistance: A Manifesto by Tricia Hersey. I read this book in one sitting and will probably read it at least once a year to remind myself of how important and vital rest is in this world of grind culture.
In gratitude,
Alyson Roberts
P.S. Nadine also shared about the productivity paradox and Beth writes about meditative pauses.
