Too Tired to Be Profound
On emotional exhaustion, systemic collapse, and the power of pausing—for today.
I’m exhausted—and if you’re a thinking, feeling, alive human who resonates with my writing, you probably are too.
Just when I think I’ve got a handle on my emotions, a new horrifying headline drops—be it globally, nationally, locally, or even within my own family.
I’m doing everything I can to keep my head on straight, my heart intact, my body strong, and my soul nourished, and while I’m certain it’s all helping, it doesn’t diminish the fact that I am human and shit is wild in every direction and on every level.
Thanks to seven years of monthly sessions with my Spiritual and Emotional Technology Coach, Jake, I’ve gotten pretty good at observing my emotions, identifying their roots, and transmuting the experience into something meaningful.
But sometimes I simply lack the energetic wherewithal to do “The Work”.
This is one of those weeks—so instead of forcing a lesson out of the lunacy, I’ve decided to share a piece I wrote back in August 2020 that definitely could have been written today.
I’m going to use the few hours I’d typically spend writing this week’s Substack essay to go on an extra long “Noticing Walk” and take pictures of the vibrant flowers and trees in my neighborhood. (Self-care isn’t always massages and bubble baths, sometimes it’s an aggressive amount of iPhone pics of yards in bloom.)
Consider this your permission slip to also go easy on yourself, if even for the day.
Resistance, societal uprisings, and inner child work are long games, and we won’t be able to sustain our energy if we never rest. Stay hydrated, watch something that makes you laugh, and go be horizontal if that’s what you feel inclined to do.
“The Work” will still be here when you’re ready to return.
“The Way it Is”, August 2020
The way it is doesn’t have to be the way it is.
Every moment contains a choice: to continue on as it’s been, take a new direction, or pause entirely.
We often think that because something has always been a certain way (which is never really fully true, is it?), it must remain so in perpetuity.
Nostalgia acts like handcuffs for some, relegating them to living in and upholding a world not of their making. White supremacy, patriarchal structures, capitalism—these systems serve very few and harm far more, yet how many people are willing to lay down their lives and freedom to protect these destructive concepts?
“Back in my day” is a phrase often only used by old white men who long for the time when they ruled without question. A time when women and people of color didn’t dare push back or ask for more. A time when things were exactly as they wanted them to be—obedient, subservient, comfortable… for them.
If I’m able to find a shred of empathy for those grumpy old white men, I can, for a brief moment, put myself in their shoes and feel how disorienting our current state of affairs must be for them. They’ve held the keys to the castle for well over a millennium, yet here they are, living in a time when the keys no longer fit the lock the way they used to. Someone has gone and taken the whole damn door off its hinges while they dozed off in their La-Z-Boy to the white noise of QVC in the background.
I imagine the shock they must feel when they jolt themselves awake with a snore, thinking, “How long have I been out? It’s as if the whole world changed in the time it took the gregarious man in the infomercial to say, ‘but wait—there’s more!’”
Suddenly, the world they knew not long ago is different—and not in a way that benefits them.
"Now hold on a minute there, missy," they’d say, "let’s not get too big for our britches here. We all have roles to play, and you’re not playing yours the way you’re supposed to. Don’t forget that equality means you having to do things men do, and I think we both know you’re not keen on taking out the trash and going to war. You only think you want equality—you really just want to have it all. And I’m sorry, but I simply can’t have that.”
Poor old white man. He must be so frustrated right now. His precious little world—the one that served and uplifted him and his kind for thousands of years—feels wobbly and foreign. Where’s the pill that can fix that? Surely there must be one. Every ailment specific to men has a special pill to fix it; this should be no different!
How discombobulating our new reality must feel to him. “It’s not fair!” he exclaims. “Why does this whole social justice uprising and demand for equality have to happen during MY lifetime?! All the white men that came before me had it so good. I want to go back to the time when I got to be in charge, unopposed. Let’s make America GREAT AGAIN… for me of course, not you!”
It’s okay, old white man. The good news for you is that in this new reality, we all get to share in the greatness. Come, hold our hands as we walk through the busted-down door of the castle together toward a new way of living—one that emboldens, empowers, and enlivens every last one of us.
There’s room for us all here, even you.
Until next time, have a wonderful weekend, and happy connecting!
Baily Hancock is a Connection Strategist, Keynote Speaker, and Host of the “Seeking the Overlap” Podcast. She helps individuals and membership organizations excel through community, connection, and collaboration—the 3Cs she believes are essential to building meaningful, supported lives surrounded by people who want to see us thrive. Learn more at OverlapCollective.com and connect with her on LinkedIn and Instagram.
Feeling your pain but hang in there. Love your 'Noticing Walks' - I do a similar thing where I take the same photo of the same trail near my house to really see how it changes over the year. It really connects you to the nature around you.