It’s Not Depression. It’s Exhaustion.

Why Creative Women Are Burning Out and the Soul-Level Need for Deep Rest

This is an article I originally published in the fall of 2022 — yet the themes keep arising. We’re collectively tired, and recovery is a process. While we might cycle through periods of creative energy, perhaps a bit more so in the spring, deep exhaustion is never far from our consciousnesses. Take a read, and let me know if you see any of yourself reflected in these words.

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What does it mean when you don't want to do anything? When nothing sounds fun, you've lost touch with previous passions, and the things that used to bring you joy no longer have the same effect?

Modern psychology would tell us that these are clear signs of depression. And sometimes, that is what's happening.

But this isn’t always the case. I've found that there's often something a bit more insidious under the surface when creators lose the desire to create…

Many of the women I know are infinite creators. Their inner wells of inspiration seem to have no end to their depths.

These women remodel houses. Build healing practices. Tend potent relationships. Raise little ones. Nurture new life in the land. Paint magnificent works of art. Grow businesses of all types. Launch podcasts. Write books. Envision social ventures. Make a difference in their communities. (And yes, I definitely count myself in this crowd.)

Their work is so beautiful and needed in our world.

But there is a shadow side to the drive to create. To manifest visions in physical form. To always be growing.

Patriarchal Systems Are Designed to Harm Creative Women

The influence of the linear, growth-driven, and let's face it — patriarchally influenced — culture we all live within sneaks into every part of our unconsciousness.

It slips in through social media and tells you that everyone else is doing more and doing it better.

It's a podcast guest, reminding you that you should always be biohacking your body, healing your trauma, and manifesting your dream life.

It makes sure you know that if you aren't always climbing the ladder of career—including if you work for yourself—you’ll end up desolate and broke.

It subtly lets you know that if, as a woman, you’re not focused on creating or raising new life (having children) on top of all this, you’re not really living up to your full potential.

The amazingly creative, power-house women in my life know that nature and life are cyclical, that endless growth is unsustainable, and that we need space to tend our wellness...

And yet resting or *not doing anything* is soooo uncomfortable for all of them (er, us...I've faced my own struggles here for sure).

But if we don't take the time to celebrate and integrate in the creative cycles of life, we will inevitably crash and burn.

I was talking with a good girlfriend recently, and I could see this starting to emerge in her.

"Some days I'm fine, and I get a ton done and feel in the flow," she said, "But more and more, I just don't want to do anything."

I know this feeling well.

As an infinite creator myself, I finally burned out so hard that I became non-functional. I could tell I was on the verge of chronic illness unless something changed. 

At this time, the idea of doing anything was too hard. And it freaked me out: If I didn't want to do anything, what was I going to do? What is life without creation? How would I make money? Contribute to the world? Do all the things that "matter"?

When I was in the throws of panic on this topic, my wise little sister came to the rescue with key advice from Martha Beck, who shared (I’m paraphrasing here):

If you don't want to do anything, if you've lost touch with your passion, if nothing matters or motivates or delights you...

You Need Rest.

Just Rest.

Rest.

Can you feel your body relaxing as you read this? 

It's actually ok not to feel purpose-driven, connected with your "why" and following your "hell-yes's" for awhile.

It's okay to step into the alchemical cauldron of rest.

When I relayed this to my girlfriend, she started to cry. Not tears of sadness, but tears that signify a Truth with capital T coming home.

We Must Allow Space for Our Grief

In the months leading up to our deep exhaustion, both my friend and I had been through life-changing transitions. And both of us had experienced significant losses with deep grief.

Just about everyone I know has gone through something similar in the past two years.

It seems that, as a culture, we've forgotten that we need time and space to process and integrate the major changes and losses we've experienced.

We need rituals and rights of passage to mark that we are are no longer who we once were.

When this lack of tending meets the creator's endless quest, burnout and exhaustion are inevitable.

Check in with your body and heart. What happens when you ask yourself if you just need rest?

If you feel your nervous system relax and your eyes well up with tears, you need rest.

If you feel a constriction and sense of panic, you also need rest.

Do you remember how? Do you even know how to rest anymore?

How to Rest—Even When It Feels Impossible

In my experience, it can take a long time to actually remember how to rest, with quite a few ups and downs along the way.

Be gentle with yourself during the process. Know that it will be uncomfortable at times, and that it will absolutely become more natural as you practice.

To whatever degrees are possible for you (and I'm well aware that rest seems like an unobtainable luxury to so many women), here are just a few ideas that helped me when I was so exhausted I was becoming non-functional:

• Let go of your to-do list. The more you ignore it, the more you might realize that life won't actually fall apart if you don't get everything done each day.

• Stare out a window for over an hour. No devices, reading, listening, writing, or even trying to meditate. Just space out and stare. It's wild how healthy this actually is.

• Take time off with no plans for how to fill your days. Stay home—or leave if that's easier. Either way, try to spend your days responding to what you need in each moment. This is easier said than done...just know, you will likely binge Netflix or read a ridiculously cheesy novel. And you will end up with dirty floors and a sink full of dishes. It's okay (at least for now).

• Smell good things. Aroma seeps past our conscious minds deep into the brain where it can soothe our tender souls from the inside out.

• Drink water. Lots of water.

• Know that all of the above are easier said than done. Resistance is inevitable. Life is full of demands on your time and energy. Be kind to yourself and do what you can.

As you start to heal, you might find that you have the energy to engage in a few, simple self-care practices. These can feel like too much if you've really hit a deep level of exhaustion or grief, so there's no rushing into them. But when you feel ready, try incorporating a few of these practices into your days:

• Meditate. And don't make it too serious or intense. Find some nice guided imagery, or set a timer for 10 minutes. Or lay on the floor and do a body scan. This should feel good—not like a chore.

• Move your body. Personally, I love yoga for this. I go at my own pace, feel my body, and know my energy is beginning to move more too. If yoga works for you, great. If not, the important thing is that the movement helps you enjoy being in your body. Dance. Walk. Do jumping jacks. Whatever feels good.

• Incorporate herbal allies. Teas or tinctures that soothe your nervous system can help the healing process.

• Treat your senses. Eat nourishing, delicious food. Keep up the aromas. Take a bath and massage oil into your muscles. Decorate your body with jewelry, clothes you love, fake tattoos even...especially if you've lost touch with feeling good in your skin (which often accompanies burnout).

• Get out into nature. Even a backyard or park will do. Or a walk around a tree-lined neighborhood. The spirits of nature are beautiful allies on our healing journeys.

While I found my own journey to deeper rest uncomfortable and challenging at times, I also found it extremely liberating. I began to see the boxes I'd put myself in—yes, the ones I'd unintentionally constructed myself—with greater clarity.

My cocoon of rest has morphed—I've gone from teetering on the edge of autoimmune conditions to restoring health and learning how to enjoy life again bit by bit. And I'm still very much in the cocoon.

I don't know who I will be when I emerge. And everyday I remind myself to surrender to the process.

Because rest isn't just restorative. It's transformational. It's a cauldron we must enter to undergo an alchemical transformation into a new way of being.

Who will we become if we allow the cocoon of rest to alchemize our transformation?

I don't know. But I do know, with my whole heart, that those who surrender to the process will become even more impactful light beings ushering in a new era on our planet. (Yup—made a leap there...more on the new era I'm sensing to come!)

Does this resonate? Let me know in the comments.