WATCH THE WORLD BURN

“When you're burnt out, imagine yourself as a funnel. The good things—peace, love, and rest—are water; they hover momentarily when poured in abundance, but then quickly disappear. The bad things—burnout, negativity, and pain—are like flour. Flour  clogs the neck of the funnel, it piles up and goes down only if forced through .” - Me

There are so many facets to burnout, both in terms of symptoms and causes, across the manifold contexts in which it can develop. From my experience, I would synthesize it as a psycho-physical malaise characterized by an existential disconnection from the self and the world. In terms of symptoms, we can experience burnout as feeling emotionally exhausted and fragile, prone to negative rumination and to embracing a psychological view of the world defined by threat, scarcity, and cynicism; suffocated by a state of silently loud anxious instability and depression, overburdened by the weight of any activity, whilst detached from our purpose in life. This reduces any sense of personal accomplishment, productivity, and lasting satisfaction, cutting us off from enjoying any labour, endeavour, or relationship—lastly from the person we want to be and live we desire to lead.

As I attempt to describe burnout through an all-comprehensive approach, I fail to acknowledge the transitory development between these experiences and their most specific causes. Regardless of the curiosity that arises in studying the dynamic relationships between symptoms and drivers, I shall first focus strictly on the entanglement between meaning and burnout, and later on spirituality.

I would like to begin by stating the unobvious: existential exhaustion does not arise strictly from “draining overactivity,” but also from an exhausting underactivity. Indeed, doing nothing wrongly assumes rest, which will not aid the burnt-out and sickly. This observation becomes intuitive when one understands the following truth: a major source draining our vitality lies in the (perceived) lack of meaning in our lives—in other words, in the mismatch of values within the world we inhabit, whether we are keeping busy or not.

 Hence, nihilistic tendencies function both as a cause and a symptom, with a self-reinforcing dynamic. The major danger, beyond the mere feeling of a grey emptiness and a quiet despair, arises from the temptation to “go to hell with it”: the corrosive, embittering, fierce urge to abruptly leave or destroy relationships, ourselves, jobs, or the perceived sources of burnout—which we often misidentify.
The great danger is that, in this moment of outward fragility and inner torment, we steadfastly embrace maladaptive survival habits, reinforcing our suffocated state. Relationships fall apart or weaken as we can’t feel the love anymore; passions are abandoned as we go numb; and faith becomes a disappointing burden. We grow colder and more bitter. Armed with the tool of deconstruction, we may be tempted to cut the Church, our faith, and our identity off. Perhaps this is extreme, but less evident forms of these nihilistic behaviours are very common. We project our inner state outwardly, only to watch our world burn.
The juxtaposed response revolves around succumbing to an existential numbing—falling into a depressive-anxious state where the burning is experienced inwardly. Unfortunately, I’ve not delved deeply into the literature or experienced it fully myself, so pardon my incompleteness on the matter. I have encountered these phenomena through an experiential ontology and from mentions across various resources. Perhaps one day I’ll dedicate a longer newsletter to it.

Through Jungian lenses, as with certain cases of depression, burnout can be understood as the reflection of an inner misalignment with our understanding of the “(true) self in the world,” conceived as the ensemble of our roles, responsibilities, impact, values, and the narratives we believe. Therefore, the solution to many cases of burnout lies in the following: either changing a specific understanding of the world, along with its attached values and expectations, or changing one’s environment so as to bring it into alignment with those a priori expectations. In other words, rebuild your framework of meaning, or rebuild your lived framework.

Unfortunately, providing examples of my own would require too much explanation. I shall only mention, in a rather abstract manner, the makeup of this process for me. I experienced my value mismatch and sense of meaninglessness especially at school, church, and in relationships. Partly through my efforts, partly through luck, I have been able to experience university as I had always imagined it, given the reality of my context.
Regarding church and faith, I will express my thoughts below; yet it required significant reconstruction of false narratives and beliefs. Relationship-wise, I have invested a great deal of effort into building strong friendships and lowering my idealism and expectations—especially regarding giving and receiving, reciprocity, justice, and so on—while also being blessed with many people who are truly life-giving to me.
I have arranged my life to be wonderful, and I have built my wonder to be arranged by life.

Here I encourage the reader to take a moment of reflection. In the unfortunate case you are reading currently experiencing any of the phenomena listed in the previous pages, specifically to a resilient, perhaps dormant at times, sense of meaninglessness, ask yourself why. Where does it come from? Are you too fragmented in your pursuits? Are you unable to live for what you truly want? What is it that really is meaningful and worth pursuing available in your life?
Perhaps similar questions could be asked in regards to the rest of the symptoms and their relation to their causes. This process of active deconstruction and reconstruction along with the ability of letting go, serve as a foundational step for a healthy and long lasting recovery in burnout. At the end, we must truly be able to come to a place where we can say: C’est la vie, et c’est bon.

CARRY THAT WEIGHT

“You must arrange your life so that you are experiencing deep contentment, joy, and confidence in your everyday life with God”. - Dallas Willard

I’ve seen many people’s faith consumed by that destructive force of bitter deconstruction, arising from an unspecified—perhaps undiagnosed—spiritual exhaustion. Mine, too, has been at risk.

In the rest of this chapter, I will discuss my very personal experience of church and faith while going through burnout.

The wilderness is a natural part of the spiritual journey. The entrance, course, and exodus will appear different for each person, and I can only attest to my own experience—one mainly driven by a (perceived) failure in my efforts to serve the Kingdom, help others, grow as a person, and feel God’s love and presence.
Many people told me I wandered in these desolate lands as a consequence of being too busy. As much as I agree that this played a part, the major reason, as previously stated, stemmed from a pouring out of my vital energy without any significant refueling—or perhaps from a kind of internal bleeding. All of my Bible studies, attempts to reach out to friends, events for students and teens, my newsletter, teaching, and preaching were not too much in themselves, but they were simply not bearing any fruit. As whatever I do, I do with all of myself, when these endeavours ceased to be life-giving due to their unconsequentialness, they became consuming and draining.
This internal desolation was exacerbated by my relationship with God rapidly crumbling into sand. Sleep issues prevented me from maintaining my habitual morning spiritual time; I began to believe that, no matter my prayers or Bible reading, nothing was changing; my unrepented sin corroded my soul; the biblical promises appeared to me as mischief; my understanding of God was severely challenged; my relationship in the church felt brittle and subtle; His presence felt increasingly fleeting—until there was nothing. I felt betrayed. I felt bitter. I wanted to give up and give in. It all felt so unreal.
Beneath this creeping numbness lay perhaps the most draining leak of my spiritual vitality: unrepented ongoing sin (moral hypocrisy). Living the misalignment from the person who I desire to be, I’m called to be, and the person I am, not only embedded in my soul shame and an impostor sensation, but it consumed me and corroded my heart too. I felt so stuck, so fake, and empty.
And the worse I got the more people told me to rest in God. But, what happens if you are in desperate need of rest, but you simply cannot find it—emotionally, physically, or spiritually? What happens when the very sources of rest themselves become sources of pain, stress, and anxiety? What if God, faith, and the Church become sources of restlessness?

I’ve been given a great deal of advice—often unwanted, and most times blind or dismissive—only deepening my hurt. Hence, I hardly know how to continue this paragraph. I had intended to thoughtfully enlist good practices and advice on how to approach and emerge from this spiritual desolation. Yet, in order not to follow the same path as those who caused me such heartache, and aware that the path of healing truly depends on the individual—and that I myself have not fully healed—I will instead aspire only to share, with humility, my journey so far and my perspective on the matter.
In early November, I stopped praying—at least with faith and hope. At best, prayer became a quick errand to fit in on my way to class. I abandoned my study of Scripture, deeming it worthless to my condition, perhaps even growing bitter at its seeming inconsequence. I would still go to church, yet remained totally numb to any song or sermon. There were occasional grand moments—perhaps a conference or a special worship night—that kindled a desire to reignite my inner spirituality, but they were quickly suppressed by the winds of my exhausted spirit, leaving me to perform an externalized spirituality.
Then, at the end of December—as I will describe more fully later—something provided a decisive turning point, allowing me to begin a path of reconciliation with God. Understanding why I burned out, and identifying the causes of my spiritual desolation, granted me a sense of grace toward myself and released God from my blame. Recognizing the unreliability of my emotions helped me to wait patiently for greater clarity.
Without consistency, and while accepting how difficult it was, I began reading my Bible again. My heart longed to be transformed and healed by God, yet little seemed to change. My sleep, my anxiety, my hurt, and my sin still dominated my life. Slowly, life itself began to improve, yet my relationship with God lagged behind. 

Unfortunately, I cannot fully recall or neatly summarize these past three months. What I do know is that, through much patience, an acceptance of perplexity, vulnerably asking for love from my community, the correction of false narratives about my value and identity (from doing to being), and a reshaping of my expectations and perspective on life and the Kingdom of God —alongside a more intentional and strategic effort in my struggles—I have begun to move toward a path of healing. I am building my oasis in the wilderness.
I still wrestle with doubt and questions, disappointments and hurts. Many spiritual practices don’t come easy at all. I persist in serving the teens and students, evangelizing and so on, well aware of my ineffectiveness and pondering what to do about it. I accept I need to be poured in more than I can provide for. And so much more. Yet, feeling so alive. In love with Christianity. Clinging to God. Dreaming of becoming a greater light of this world. Indeed, I feel more mature, more loving, and yearning for God to transform my heart as the abode of love, peace and joy.  I’ve come to live a peacefully quiet restlessness.

I don’t dare give any advice, if not that to simplify where possible your life and your expectation about everything, seek awareness and understanding, equip yourself with grace externally and internally, and surround yourself with love and lifegiving sources. I shall then refer you to the Contemplative Pastor Podcast (https://www.practicingtheway.org/podcasts/the-contemplative-pastor) for further interest in the topic of burnout in ministry.
Concluding, as every week there is a development in my spiritual state, a new practice, a new challenge, a new understanding, I shall update or proceed with this part of the newsletter in an upcoming one, probably an update on life toward June. In this very moment, as I’m reigniting my spiritual fervor, I’m wrestling to make the following quotes and ideas a reality, a foundation of my vision of the world, and a principle of life:

"(Before any project, work, serving ministry, role in the church, bible study, serving the poor) You must arrange your life so that you are experiencing deep contentment, joy, and confidence in your everyday life with God”. - Dallas Willard
“Never sacrifice your inner spirituality, for your outer one”- Carlos Santos.
“Don’t live for God, live to be with God”- A friend
“Kill business or it will kill you”-Kevin DeYoung.
“(Thinking of High Responsibility, Low Control, Low Reward in ministry work) We are not meant to carry the burden of our work”-D. Willard.
“Take a sabbath, is about letting go of that treasured illusion of your indispensability (and the immediacy and mustness of things)” - Rich Villodas
"You can't think your way to Christlikeness"- James K. A. Smith
"The spiritual journey is not a success story. It is a series of humiliations of the false self" - Thomas Keating
"Pastoring at its core is not leadership. It is suffering love. Pain is not a bug. It is a feature of the pastoral call" - John Mark Comer
“Ministry will either burn you out or burn you clean"- John Mark Comer
“Forgive God because life isn't fair. You don't want to die an angry, bitter person. That's the only moral imperative there is.” - Andrew Greeley
“If you know you are beloved, you can live with an enormous amount of success, an enormous amount of failure without losing your identity" - Henri Nouwen
"The way of Jesus is cruciform, and that is vastly different from the up and to the right business model for growth" - Gemma Ryan
“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” - Jesus, the physician of the soul