Welcome to Homebody Stories! A newsletter offering reflections from an ex-productivity enthucutlet trying to live a more meaningful life, one step at a time.
Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. This was my entirety of 2022. The year that ruined me.
In the months leading to my extreme burnout, the first thing I noticed was the desire to not get out of bed, wanting to stay there for longer and longer, staring blankly at the ceiling. Next was skipping meals. Feeling aches in different parts of my body. Not drinking enough water. Not being able to look at my phone. Not having the energy to talk to anyone.
My then ways of living were just not working for me anymore. My family doctor cautioned me to stop taking my well-being so lightly.
In January of 2023, I decided to quit my job. After serving a two-month notice, March was when it all hit me in full force. I spent the whole month trying to come to terms with how ill the grind had made me. My body had been giving me signals all along but I had refused to pay any attention. The lack of boundaries and pushing beyond my capacity had brought me where I was.
But now it was time to fix that and build a new world.
Starting a New Chapter
I started slowly. But made a lot of changes during the next few weeks. I stopped using my phone excessively. I got out of a dozen WhatsApp groups that were no longer serving me. I gave up caffeine. I started eating home-cooked meals. I stopped being lost in my own head and made a conscious effort to be present (this was not at all easy). I spent my mornings walking and being in nature. The last part is what helped me most with rebuilding myself. That and how supportive my family was through it all.
A song that was my constant during this period:
As Julia Cameron writes in The Artist Way, it's about honouring the essence of living and believing that we deserve recess. Only then can we reconnect with our inner selves.
It's mindboggling how we can neglect our body and mind in the name of busyness. Busyness that doesn't lead to anything fruitful. I think about all the times I've pulled all-nighters to work on presentations, replying to emails while pretending to have a conversation, skipping lunch over work calls, saying yes to work trips over family events, fulfilling last-minute work requests more times than I can recall. It now makes my stomach churn. How was I okay with all of it?
In 2024, 77% of global workforce has admitted to experiencing burnout in their current job.
Let that sink in.
In his book Slow Productivity, Cal Newport talks about how technology has shaped our ability to stack more and more into our day and onto our schedules than we have the capacity to handle. And this is where the burnout really hurts - when you want to care about something but you're removed from the capacity to do the thing properly because you're expected to do so many other things.
Things that amount to nothing in the long-term. Things that eat away your time, space and peace of mind. Things that make you feel so bloody trapped.
The first thing Steve Jobs did on his return to Apple in 1997 was to reduce Apple’s product line by 70%. The pursuit of quality and excellence demands one to focus on the right things.
“Deciding what not to do is as important as deciding what to do,” Jobs once said.
It's been more than a year since I cried down the phone on a work trip telling my husband that I was exhausted and I just wanted to come back home, and give up on everything else.
It was terrible. It was frightening. It was everything that I never want to go through again.
In hindsight, I am thankful for my burnout. It forced me to slow down and take stock of things that really matter to me. It redefined my understanding of success. It stopped me from glorifying hustle culture. It taught me a huge lesson in not fighting against the forces of nature and listening to my body.
Cut to present, I am working on projects that help me pay the bills and also nourish my creativity on the side. Now that I’ve claimed agency over my life, I finally know what it is like to have a meaningful and sustainable relationship with work.
I stan Cheryl Strayed and her quote has a special place in my heart:
You don’t have a career, you have a life.
Your experience and writing was a bitter-sweet reminder to my own mantra that I needed to re-visit, “Surely but slowly” and I think that’s the true power of such beautiful and honest writing !
More power to you ❤️
Beautiful ❤️