Burnout is a bitch.

Passion is a motivator. Pursuing a passion is supposed to be one of the greatest accomplishments in a lifetime. When reading obituaries it is common to read about what passions helped to shape and fulfill the life of the person lost. Passion is what forces action, compassion, and change.

However, it is important to remember that passion has its limitations. Pursuing what is believed to be the purpose of your existence can be draining. That initial spark started a fire that burned bright, hot, and fast. As life goes on there are multiple instances that can dampen that fire. It becomes smothered and unattended. That’s when burnout sets in.

Burnout starts slowly. It’s not a bucket of water dumped onto your fire but instead a tiny drizzle that seems insignificant, until it’s not. Burnout can sneak up on you and leave you unprepared for dealing with the smoke.

There are so many causes of burnout that it is not worth my time writing them down or your time reading them. We all know and have experienced situations where burnout sneaks up on us.

Recently I have experienced burnout in a way that I never expected. I have always had a very clear path for my life and I had a pretty good idea of where it was going to lead. But my flame has been extinguished. I have lost my fire and drive for what was once my passion. Basically what started out as a light drizzle escalated to a full blown garden hose that not only eliminated my flame but is working on making all of the remaining coals good and dead.

Burnout is a bitch and I hate her. I hate her for compromising my drive. I hate her for making me doubt myself. I especially hate her for making me question if my passion is truly worth the aggravation. So this is more of a rant against burnout. She needs to take a long walk off a short dock… overlooking a jagged rock beach… that’s on fire… and surrounded by lions that are malnourished.

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