Toughing out burnout isn’t noble. It’s hurting you and the people you love.

In the worst months of my burnout, a quote haunted me.

“Be grateful for what you have, before you end up grateful for what you had.”

Be grateful for what you have…

Before you end up grateful for what you had.

Ouch.

***

If I got really still, if I took the time to sit with my inner wisdom instead of rushing, rushing, rushing, frantically tending to the next task on my to-do list, the warning was like a punch in the gut.

If I didn’t course correct, I could see myself in that situation.

That, instead of cherishing what I had at the present moment, I’d one day look back wistfully, regretting that I hadn’t appreciated what I had more. Grieving its loss. Wishing that I still had it.

At the time, I “had” a lot. I still do. For years, there’s been absurd abundance in my life.

• I have a loving husband who I cherish.

• I have hopes and dreams, including aspirations of starting a family with my beloved.

• I have clarity around my purpose and I know why I’m on this planet.

• I have my health and live in a body that feels like a cozy home.

• I have shelter, as well as access to clean food and water.

• I have a curious mind that delights in exploring.

• I have confidence and fully trust myself.

• I have access to so many resources that not only are my needs met, but there’s enough left for what I want and to share.

Today, I also have peace of mind and abundant time to devote to my highest priorities. When I was burned out, however, that wasn’t true. I had no peace of mind and never felt like there was enough time for the things that mattered most to me.

Instead, I just...did. I woke up and caffeinated myself, then trudged through the workday. I was aware that I was accomplishing remarkably little each day, that I was a shell of my formerly productive self, that I was deeply dissatisfied, but I also felt stuck.

So I trudged and suffered and was bitter.

I was super fun to live with.

Suuuuuper fun.

That, specifically, is why the quote haunted me.

***

There I was, with a partner I loved, continually pushing off having kids because I wanted to be in a good place when we welcomed them into the world, just spreading misery. Tired and sad some days, angry and irritated others.

I wasn’t the kind of partner I wanted to be. I wasn’t even the person I wanted to be. I was becoming a version of myself I found repulsive.

Where was my confidence? My joy and insufferable optimism? My trust in a benevolent Universe and willingness to leap before the net appears?

Was I even a Sagittarius anymore?!

As it turns out, I was just going through my Saturn Return and had a few lessons to learn during my initiation into the next stage of my life. Because the world is a funny place, I had no idea what was happening and only realized it months after I had extracted myself from the situation and “passed” my test (thank you, shamanism for helping me to find a win-win way out).

But, before I found my solution, before I was able to look back and understand the purpose of this insanely intense initiation, I was haunted. By a quote that told me to appreciate what I have before I looked back and appreciated what I had.

Because I saw that I wasn’t appreciating my husband the way I wanted to. I wasn’t honoring our beautiful life together or “putting the big rocks first.”

I was surviving and hoping that all the good things I had would still be there when I came up for air. I was taking the risk that, one day, I’d look back and be grateful for what I had...but no longer have it.

I was, in short, playing with fire. Very, very dangerous fire.

So I stopped. I went on a retreat to gain clarity. Then I came back and put a better plan in action.

I used the brain the Universe blessed me with to craft a solution that worked all around. I stepped down from the job that was causing my burnout and got my life back.

***

Solutions exist. They existed for my burnout and, if you’re going through something similar, they exist for your burnout.

However, don’t expect to be able to see them when you’re in the thick of it. That’s not how it works.

It’s cruel to expect that of yourself. When you’re throwing everything you have at simply surviving, don’t ask more of yourself. That’s a recipe for disaster.

Take a break. As long as you possibly can.

Sign up for a life-changing experience, like a retreat or expedition.

Gain clarity.

Then, and only then, come back and execute. Make changes that will stick. Using that big, beautiful brain, the one that knows deep down that there’s a better way.

And, if possible, don’t go it alone. Find trusted counsel. Ask for support. Let people help you.

And please--please, please, please--don’t keep playing with fire. Be grateful for what you have, before you end up grateful for what you had.