As Sarah J. Maas once wrote in a little book called A Court of Thorns and Roses:
"Don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy."
Though uttered by my least-favorite character in the series, the words still ring true, and it took me a long while to accept the deeper meaning behind them.
At this time last year, I was struggling to find anything to return joy back into my life.
This year, I’m barely able to find the time to enjoy that which brings me joy.
It’s a vicious cycle, and I’m still trying to figure out who to blame.
I am going to be bold and say that 2020 was not kind to anyone. As 2021 rolled in, we looked forward to a new year of hope and positivity and possibly refinding those things that we once enjoyed doing when the fear of the outside world wasn’t a factor. But as doors reopened, so too did the obligations we were able to put aside. Tenfold.
If my post from last year was any indication, I was unable to write anything new for about a good year. 2021 was going to be better and I was going to find my muse again and for a little while, it looked like things were headed in that direction…
And then I was without a co-worker to help shoulder the burden of the real estate market’s bubble that refused to burst despite the ebbs and flows of the pandemic around us.
That small moment, when I finally felt as though I had reignited my creative spark, was smothered by none other than my full-time employment obligations. Obligations that were not going away any time soon (and still haven’t, even after all this time).
Plans and plots and outlines and deadlines were pushed and forgotten as the pressure of my 9-to-5 was quickly becoming my 8-to-8. Full disclosure: I couldn’t even get this blog post back in time because of the tunnel vision I’ve become so accustomed to just to make sure I can complete my day job so that it doesn’t become my former day job.
And as the days grew longer, the time I had to re-embrace my joy grew shorter. I was coming home at night and crashing on the couch or crawling right into bed. Only to have to wake up to do it all over again until the weekend arrived, and then any free time I had was devoted to spending time with the family I poorly neglected because I was working all week.
Enough was enough.
But not before the burnout settled in.
Just in time for summer.
So you know what we did?
We got vaccinated and booked the first vacation in almost two years and unplugged and enjoyed ourselves, leaving behind the stress and anxiety of the ‘real world’ as much as possible for as long as we could.
And I think it worked.
I returned to the full-time job with a fresher outlook, and I sat down with our Human Resources manager and I made it known. I think they listened.
Or at least I think they did. Or the real estate market has lightened up and I’m finally able to get home on time.
That same week I wrote new words for the first time in a long while. I made a plan to write more too. I’m even considering new projects that are actually going to bring me…
You guessed it.
Joy.
So, to recap:
The pandemic is/was horrible.
Burnout is also bad.
Self-care is invaluable.
And never forget what brings you joy.
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