burned out in community

“Were you burned out when you left Lost Valley?” I asked Ming.

“No, I don’t think so,” Ming said.

Ming spent five years at Lost Valley in various roles, including caring for the chickens and Registered Nurse, but was unmedicated for narcolepsy at the time. So Ming was even sleepier and more disabled than they are these days.

“Wow! How did you manage not to burn out?” I asked.

“Uh… what do you mean by that?” Ming asked.

“Burned out like deeply exhausted because you did more than you could do, and people put stuff on you that you couldn’t handle, and you didn’t say no. Like so exhausted, you can barely function,” I explained. “Like you’re sick from exhaustion.”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Ming said.

“Wow! How did you avoid burnout?” I asked. “Was the community that functional, there were enough people to do all the things that needed to be done?”

disability

“No, more like I wanted to do things that people didn’t let me do,” Ming said.

“Oh, like they didn’t trust you, or they wouldn’t share power?” I asked.

“Probably both,” Ming said. “They didn’t trust me with certain things.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Well, someone had a special garden and would complain that they needed help with upkeep, but when I offered to weed it, they didn’t want me to,” Ming explained.

“Oh, ok,” I said.

“It would be too much work for them to believe I could weed it properly, and they didn’t trust me.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That’s sad,” I said.

“It wasn’t about me, that they didn’t trust me,” Ming said. “It was about them.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said. “Lack of trust is about their own fears and what they’re projecting on you.”

“Right,” Ming said.

“And that was about disability,” I added.

“Right,” Ming said.

Yes, it was partly ableism. Not to mention race, class, and social factors like jealousy and hierarchy. If you let someone help, what does that mean about the relationship? Maybe it means you’re equal. Maybe it means the other person can do something you can’t do.

sharing power

Sharing power is super scary for many. It requires trust. It also requires telling the truth and being real about what we’re doing.

In a previous community Ming and I lived in, we were kept from doing what we do best. Our actual skills were never welcome, and that was about power. If the people who held the power had to admit what they were doing to us, it might have sounded like this.

“I’m afraid of your unique brilliance and the ways you’re different from me. So I’m not going to let you do what you do best here. That would allow you to shine, which would threaten me. I’m afraid you would become too powerful, if you were able to thrive, and I would need to admit that I can’t do everything. The idea of sharing power with you terrifies me because you are different from me, and if I let you in, I would need to change and grow. It’s way easier to keep things as they are, than to risk everything by allowing diversity. It’s way easier to pretend you’re not capable, than to see you as the person you really are.”

Love is about helping someone have the conditions to thrive. That Ming and I were kept down was ableism, racism, and fear. It was heartbreaking, and part of our reason for leaving that community.

Nevada Desert Experience

Wow, it’s easy to do too much and get deeply exhausted. When Ming and I were helping run Nevada Desert Experience, the largest event of the year–the Sacred Peace Walk–was so exhausting to me, that spring would come, and I would still be burned out from the previous year’s Sacred Peace Walk.

During the Sacred Peace Walk, I did more than I could do. The thing about doing the impossible is that after a little while, people start expecting it.

My prayer this morning:

Mother God, please bless my work and my rest. Please bless my boundaries, my “no,” my capacities, and my health. Please help me be clear in myself and with other people, about what I can and can’t do.

Thank you for my good heart and my desire to help. Please help me stay grounded in the truth and have enough self-reflection and self-knowledge to understand what I actually need. Please protect me from over-giving and from the resentment that can build with over-giving.

Thank you for my gifts, and for Ming who’s on the journey with me. I love you always.

questions for discussion

How do you know when to trust?

How do you feel your genuine yes and no?

What are your pitfalls in community? Is there a pattern?

Who taught you how much to give?

How do you change your settings?

How do you heal from burnout?

Where have your gifts been rejected?

Where do you go where all of you is accepted, and you can be your whole self?

How do you appreciate and nurture that place?