Burned out? Find your passion!

Reading time: 10 minutes

Photo: Erik Stout

Who over 40 doesn’t remember actress Jennifer Grey, dressed in white, alone on a stage and nervously awaiting things to come. Out of the silence, a song emerges with the famous words: “Now I’ve had the time of my life,” as Patrick Swayze enters from stage left. As they dance, the passion between them is palpable to the point it can almost be cut into slices. The coupling of the song with the steaming duo entices others to join in the dance. In no time, even the stiffest squares drop their guards and move to the rhythm of the song. Everyone’s having a ball.

The objective of a dance is not to arrive at some point in a room. If that would be the case, we could just walk over there and be done with it. The objective of dancing is…dancing. To experience the sheer joy of moving to music, whether it be for five minutes or hours on end.

Yet an alarmingly growing number of people seem to waste more and more energy due to overwhelming demands and responsibilities of daily life (not to mention FOMO[1]). These energy leaks often present themselves in all kinds of nebulous health problems which we shall conveniently categorize under the banner ‘low on fuel symptoms’. One of the most striking examples is undeniably the burn out, which is usually preceded with symptoms like difficulty in sleeping, fatigue, irritability, lack of concentration, muscle pains and/or headaches, palpitations, hyperventilation, feeling down and wanting to be left alone, to name a few. Moreover the inclination to dance – or engage in any enjoyable activity – often diminishes dramatically.

When they begin to really impede with our daily activities these low on fuel symptoms tend to attract our focus like syrup attracts flies, and often result in making serious business of trying to get rid of them as soon as possible. Because after all we ought not to shun our responsibilities, particularly to those we feel to be depending on them. So we make solemn and sometimes even bitter work of ‘getting better’ by means of medication, various therapies and even surgery. Generally to little avail if the source of our low on fuel symptoms is not addressed and they occasionally even increase in quantity and severity.

Now what to do when we’re on the verge of a burnout? Should we just sit around and wait for recovery to magically happen? And in the meantime do nothing about it but selfishly enjoy ourselves? As a matter of fact, there is something to be said for that. Because things we do ‘for fun’ are usually where our talents lie. If the focus shifts from our health problems to engaging activities, energy can be utilized and channeled much more effectively. The heavy obligation of “getting better” is replaced with the joy of doing something we like which leaves energy for regaining health and balance. And the best part is: it doesn’t even feel like ‘working to get better’, for after all we’re doing something enjoyable. So let’s discuss on how to find our talents, or passions (perhaps even our calling), and shed some light on what’s preventing them from being sought.

Talent can be defined as “a natural aptitude or skill.” Children demonstrate their talents jauntily; whatever they do, they do it because it comes to them naturally since they don’t yet have a way to think about what they want. When they cry, they cry; when they poop, they poop; when they laugh, they laugh, when they sleep, they sleep. In that sense they live completely in the present.

In the adult world, those who follow their passions usually do so without them being aware of it. They just do what they do because it comes to them naturally, which is why they love doing it. Somehow they were able to train their talents and incorporate them into their lives, either professional or otherwise.

Most of us however appear to point the focus at things we don’t particularly have a talent for. In his equally funny and disturbing essay “On the phenomenon of bullshit jobs” David Graeber shares a story of a friend who was both a brilliant poet and lead singer in an indie band. But as with a lot of artists who couldn’t monetize their art, the friend ended up “taking the default choice of so many directionless folk: law school.” He became a corporate lawyer working in a prominent New York firm, being convinced that his job was utterly meaningless, contributed nothing to the world, and, in his own estimation, should not really exist. Realizing that Graeber’s friend is a striking example of armies of people who feel they’re wasting their talents in unhealthy and uninspiring work environments, will that create an open, curious and co-operative society, or a frustrated and anxious one? And how did we get here?

Starting in education, roughly between the ages of four and twelve pupils are usually systematically instructed in more or less the same knowledge and skills. Mostly the process consists of sitting in an enclosed room with a laptop (or old-school with a book, pen and paper), listening to and noting down instructions given by a teacher. Wonderful training for pupils with a talent for reading and mathematics. But pupils who have talents outside of their school curriculum are required to predominantly train skills that don’t come to them naturally. What are kids with an intrinsic curiosity for nature, plumbing, food, animals, music, carpentry or dance, to do in a classroom all day? Doing something that doesn’t come naturally inevitably produces strains and frustrations, and doesn’t appear to do justice to the incredible diversity of skills human beings are not only capable of, but without which life as we know it comes to a screeching halt.[2]

Moreover, feigning importance on one set of skills – like a school curriculum – immediately suggests insignificance for all skills outside of the curriculum. The talent for embroidery for instance seems hardly worth developing in this day and age, even though it brings enormous joy to practitioners and admirers alike. It’s like Albert Einstein said: “Everybody is intelligent. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid.” It would therefore be marvelous if all crafts and skills would be valued equally since, after all, variety is the spice of life. Yet as we grow into adulthood, the skill of (re)searching our talents gets snowed under more and more by the conviction that we cannot – and ought not – escape the rat race.

So then, how to find our talents as an adult? Well, one option consists of taking sufficient solitary time. By leaving our familiar environment for a while, we temporarily return to the situation of early childhood; a time without urgent responsibilities. That provides sufficient space and time to ask ourselves the question: “Now that I have no obligations to anyone and no one is counting on me for anything, what will I do?” Then sit back and see what happens. Since we’re human, we’re inevitably going to do something. Most likely, whatever we end up doing will be our form of ‘dancing’; we do it because it’s fun. Why? Because obviously it fits us, it’s in our nature to do what we’re now doing – otherwise we wouldn’t be doing it, simply because we don’t have to. Moreover, by doing something totally unrelated to our low on fuel symptoms, they’re apt to diminish.

However, granting ourselves time away from our home and work environment implies taking a risk. That means having the courage to disappoint people by saying, “I’m off for two weeks, six months, or a year; you guys take care of the house or office.” There’s a good chance such a decision will be met with incomprehension and even resentment from some close by. Yet in case of enduring low on fuel symptoms, we can easily advocate such a step. Because if no treatment thus far caused relief, there’s a good chance we are burning up. When we eventually burn out, we cease to be of value at all to our environment – most of the time for the better part of a year, at least. Therefore it’s in the best interest for all involved to take the break. Though if we merely remain compliant to the wishes of others all the time, besides burn-out also resentment and self-rejection can very well become our ultimate destiny.

Thus it’s obvious we will start to function more creatively, and socially, if the risk is taken. By asking the question, “Now that I’m on my own, what will I do?” we get out of our own way. There’s just observation of what ideas and inclinations come up, and which ones will be acted upon. There are essential prerequisites for relaxation, creativity, and recovery.[3]

An interesting side effect is that once we grant ourselves to selfishly submerge into our passions, we stop deceiving others – and ourselves. Many utilize excessive energy because they’re convinced they ought to do all kinds of things, while in fact they really don’t want to. Working out at the gym is a true passion for only a marginally small number of people. The rest of us believe we ought to work out in order to work better, stay in shape, or other ends which require improving ourselves. Talent, by contrast, characterizes itself in being engaged in an activity for hours or days on end, without any other objective but the activity itself – hence passion. There’s no need for a financial reward, no need for acknowledgement from anyone; we just love to be engaged in that particular passion for no other reason than the passion itself. Moreover the moment we do any activity as a mere means to an end, that will reduce the quality of the activity dramatically since our minds are not fully with it. Hence why so many inferior goods and services are up for sale if the people producing them are merely doing it to make money without love for their craft.

Finally a wonderful feature of talent is that, like intelligence, it’s not some sort of rare commodity. Everybody has it (remember Einstein). Yet talent only becomes a skill when it’s practiced and performed. In other words, when we focus our conscious attention on it. Focus works like a garden hose: the water flows into the direction it’s pointed at. Like plants and flowers, those who receive water blossom, those that don’t, don’t. Moreover, the garden hose is always pointed at whatever is keeping us busy. Then what would relax us more: having the water pointed at our passions, or at activities we feel we ought to do, but secretly resent?

Therefore, take a break and discover what parts of yourself you have forgotten, or maybe don’t even know yet. Allow for yourself to surprise yourself. For if you do, it will reward you in ways unimaginable. That’s the fun of taking a risk.

Jolly greetings,
Erik Stout

[1] Fear of missing out.

[2] A counterpart of contemporary conventional education can be found in Waldorf Education, which strives to develop pupils’ intellectual, artistic and practical skills in an integrated and holistic manner. The cultivation of pupils’ imagination and creativity is a central focus.

[3] Elizabeth Gilbert describes in her novel Eat, Pray, Love about how she left a successful career, home and marriage. Even though she was not happy in her marriage anymore, she was convinced she ought to love her husband and keep it going. Yet that turned against her because she was trying to nourish a dead horse. After a rebound relationship didn’t work out, she left everything behind and travelled for a year. That trip resulted in the book, which remained on the New York Times Bestseller list for three and a half years.