Navigating Burn Out

They say it’s an up and down battle when you forge your own path. Being an artist is being a path forger all on its own, but turning your art practice into a business is a whole new level of forging.

This past week I found myself deep in the throes of burn out. I considered throwing in the towel, moping around my apartment in my PJ’s. I asked myself if I made a mistake. If this is all too hard, too much to carry.

 What’s ironic is that this burnout hit me the same week I received an email interview request from a local magazine that highlights small businesses and creatives.

I sat in my bedroom, staring at the email that hit my inbox in complete disbelief. I’ve been throwing applications to every open call I can find for three months, and now an inquiry has slipped its way towards me.

“I notice you,” it said.

It was some sort of proof that what I was working towards is real. That what I’m doing is working. Is worth it.

And yet for a full week, I stared at a blinking curser inside a  blank document. The magazine had given me two weeks to return my answers, and I had the worst case of writer’s block I can ever remember having in my life.

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Even the thought of writing instantly grated on me. I tried to force a response together, but words weren’t working. Each day that passed without me submitting the response brought another thin layer of anxiety. All those “should’s” in life. 

I should do this, I should do that. It felt like life was out of control again somehow. Only this time I was the one that designed the cage.

So I let go of the “should’s.”

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Self Portrait. (2024) Oil painting on loose canvas.

When I felt like I should post, I stopped. I offered myself compassion, and let myself rest. 

I created white space in my life. I gave myself more time with no noise, lights, phones and social screens that begged for more of my attention.

I once heard that when trying to start a business, there are three people housed inside you. 

1. The Manager
2. The Visionary
3. The Executor

The Manager is the person inside you that’s the judge. They determine risks, and minimize those risks.

The Visionary is the person inside you who has all the ideas. The person that’s excited, exploring, and always starting, never finishing.

The Executor is the “doer.” The person who gets caught up in all those little tasks that just feel good to complete, and can be unproductive without the Manager to direct them towards tasks that yield the highest results.

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Wine & Rose (2024). Oil Painting on loose canvas.

See, what had happened is that my Visionary got beaten down, and my Manager got too powerful.

I was constantly judging, judging, judging, and becoming afraid to take risks. I was growing attached to unattainable goals, and losing faith towards taking the first step. I saw the scene at the top of the staircase, got enamored, yet I was terrified to take that first step, then the second.
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These most recent days I’ve been learning to do less.

I’ve been learning how long certain tasks take me.

For example, I had three things on my to-do list today, one of which being to rebuild my About page on my website. Creating that About page took me 6 hours, leaving little time for the rest of my to-do list. Instead of feeling disappointed that I didn’t do more, I felt grateful and proud of myself for the things I did do. I also noted how long building a page from scratch takes, which helps me manage my expectations for next time.
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Wow. I knew that there would be a learning curve, but I didn’t know how steep it would feel to walk it. I remember starting this journey three months ago, bright-eyed and eager. I thought I was full of innate skill and unwavering enthusiasm which would ease my way, yet I am constantly encountering new challenges that make me question my choices. 

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Calming Portrait. (2024). Oil Paint on loose canvas.

The main challenge? Managing myself. Managing the part of me that’s an impatient, asking infant. When will it happen? When will I “make it?” When will I feel better, less uncertain, less uncomfortable in my skin and circumstances?

I heard once to rehearse your wins. An athlete visualizes that perfect landing a million times before they make it, yet it’s so common for us regular people to rehearse the failure. We imagine how everything will go wrong so often that the journey to get there becomes so miserable.

So I’ve been challenging myself to rehearse faith. I change the channel in my brain when I feel afraid. I hear that question “what if,” and I interrupt.

“Excuse me, there. I hear you. I hear what you mean when you say it’s scary. But here’s a little question for you, just a lil ol’ question to float around your noggin. . .

"What if it all works out?

"Let’s just leave it at that. What if it all works out? Hmm?"