Transcription

• Speaker #0

  Before we begin, this is part two of a short Christmas miniseries, a regenerative Christmas carol. Each episode stands on its own, so it's no problem if you're arriving here first. Part one looked back at the Christmases shaped by overwork, and part two is about the present, about what burnout actually looks like day to day. Not collapse, not drama, but the inability to stop. So if you're listening to this in the middle of a busy Christmas, or you're telling yourself that it's okay because you're mostly present, then this one is definitely for you. Are you sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin. Here is part two, The Ghost of Burnt Out Christmas Present. At the sound of the bell, Ebenezer stiffened, a familiar dread settled in their chest. Not surprised this time. recognition from the corner of the room the ghost emerged once more broad-shouldered eyes hollow wrapped in a heavy cloak woven from unread messages overlapping commitments in the dull glow of constant availability i am the ghost of burnt-out christmas present it said its voice carried the weight of someone who had been holding too much for far too long once more the walls dissolved and they stood inside a cosy living-room dressed for christmas lights twinkled music played softly laughter drifted in from another room ebenezer stood among it all phone in hand at first glance it looked as though they were present smiling nodding participating but the phone vibrated once more ebenezer glanced down just a quick check nothing urgent the thumb hovered then tapped a reply was drafted deleted rewritten the ghost watched closely ebenezer slipped into the kitchen telling themselves that it would only take a moment just checking in just staying on top of things phoned it up again this said the ghost is the christmas you are living now half in the room Half elsewhere, pulled by a device that never rests. A small child appeared at the kitchen door, holding an ornament hope bright in their face. Ebenezer smiled, distracted. In a minute, they said, I'm just finishing something. The minute never came. Do you really believe, the ghost asked, that you could stop if you wanted to? Ebenezer's thoughts looped endlessly. A low-level anxiety hummed beneath everything. Rest felt unfamiliar, presence uncomfortable, silence almost unbearable. Even now, surrounded by warmth and celebration, the body stayed braced. You no longer know how to rest, the ghost said softly. Burnout is not a personal failure. it is what happens when a system takes more than it ever returns the phone vibrated once more ebenezer flinched you still believe you can outrun this the ghost said its voice steady kind you cannot but you can choose differently the fire crackled softly the room exhaled and like smoke rising from the embers the ghost was gone. That scene, the phone, the notifications, the checking, the slipping away just for a moment, is one I recognise immediately in my clients. And if I'm honest, it's one I recognise in myself too. I don't like to admit it, but I find myself on my phone far more than I would like to, often in front of my children, in the middle of bedtime. And very rarely is it because I urgently need to attend to something. More often it's simply because I am stuck in the mode of productivity. I do my best to recognise that and break the pattern. But when you're burnt out, it's almost impossible to stop. And stopping is so important. When I was running my start-up, LifeSize, one of the earliest decisions that I made was that no one would work between Christmas and New Year. The office was closed, everyone got paid, they didn't need to use leave. And that might sound generous, but honestly, it wasn't. It was selfish, because that break was exactly what I needed. I needed to properly switch off, to be with family, to lose track of what day it was, to come back in January with energy instead of resentment. And I wanted my team to experience their version of that too. And From what I hear from clients, that decision is still surprisingly unusual. And that tells us something important. Burnout doesn't usually come from one bad job or just one extreme moment. It comes from a continual pattern of never truly stopping. From staying half available. From being reachable even when you're technically off. from simply forgetting how to rest and feeling uncomfortable when you try. That's why I define regenerative work very simply, as work that actively supports life. Because when work doesn't, the cost will show up eventually, in burnout, resentment, and an accumulation of missed experiences. This shift in work is the kind of thing that we explore inside the meaningful business incubator. Not just what work you do, but whether the way you work actually allows you to live. And it's a continual practice. So if you're heading into Christmas already bracing yourself, I just want to leave you with one question. How many more Christmases like this are you willing to trade away? And could this possibly be the very last one? In the next and final episode, we'll meet the ghost of meaningful Christmas future and explore what becomes possible when work is built to support life, not consume it. That episode will be with you on New Year's Eve. So however you celebrate, I wish you a happy Christmas or a happy holiday. And for now, if you can, put the phone down. Let your shoulders drop and be present. I'll see you next week. If this episode of From Corporate to Calling was helpful or inspiring, follow the show so you don't miss an episode. And if you know someone who's questioning their career, send them this podcast. Lifelines are meant to be shared. Remember, you don't have to tolerate burnout or misalignment. You can redirect your skills into meaningful work that brings back life to you. and to the world around you.