On what you can learn from burnout

You’re a writer, you’re a wellness facilitator, you are a community architect. I really want to know, how did you come to define the titles for yourself? Was it a process of intentional self-discovery, or did these roles reveal themselves to you over time?

I think the roles just kind of revealed themselves to me. I’ve always loved to write, but I never really considered myself to be a writer until I embarked on the journey of writing this book and realized that I was pretty good at it.

And then that was also a moment for me to just be like, “Well, why didn’t you claim that before? And why were you so nervous to consider yourself a writer? What was the metric that I was kind of using to make myself feel like I was or was not?” And I think I’m still trying to unpack that because I think I should have been leaning into it a lot more. And obviously I was writing throughout all these years and publishing my little things,

And then the role of community architect, it revealed itself to me as I realized that I was gifted in certain things and folks kept mirroring to me that I made them feel a certain way, and that when they were in spaces that I would put together, they felt something. They felt like they were really in the presence of community. And then I realized, “Oh my gosh, I think I’m a community architect.” I think I would never have considered myself this had it not been revealed to me through the words of other people. But now that I think about it, I actually see it. And so that’s how I came to claim that title as well.

You built this amazing community with Goddess Council, while wearing so many different hats. What were some things you learned about yourself both as a leader and a person navigating her own journey and still creating spaces?

In retrospect, something that I learned is that I really do appreciate solitude. And I think that the more alone time that I have, the better I can be for other people. And that’s not something I think I would’ve been fully clear about had I not taken two years to just tuck myself away and really make sense of my life. But I think that it’s in the solitude that I’m able to clarify the things that I eventually bring back to people, like the words or the experiences, the feelings.

And so I think when I was running Goddess Council, that was one thing that I didn’t prioritize, which in part led to my burnout. The fact that I thought I could just keep running like a machine and not really take time for myself while I showed up for other people.

You built something great and then it had to close. How has the grief of that reshaped your understanding of self and your work within community?

Well, I think that the grieving process of that was also part of why I had to go away for two years. I think it was so fundamental to my growth to understand what went wrong and what went right, so that I could understand what I didn’t want to replicate in the future. It transformed me. As a community leader, there are ways that you can show up that are really well-intentioned. Everything I’ve always done has been well-intentioned, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that your approach is sustainable, it doesn’t necessarily mean that it is the most effective, and it also doesn’t necessarily mean that you are sticking to the mission of why you began to do something. Things can change along the way, and part of being a leader and part of being aware is being able to course-correct as you go along. And I don’t think that’s a skill that I had up until now really.

If I was to do all that again, I would be very different. But at the time, I started that when I was 26 years old, and it started to peak at the start of the pandemic. And there are just so many factors at play that it was impossible for me to try to course-correct as the world was crumbling.

The thing that I learned the most is that there needs to be an honesty with self along the way and there needs to be a flexibility to say this is not working anymore, and name it and say it out loud and point to it, versus trying to avoid the reality of what it is, trying to preserve something that is no longer. And that as a leader, it’s your responsibility to say the hard thing and to say the thing out loud, even if that means that a lot of things are going to have to change as a result of that new truth coming to light. But if that truth means that the business isn’t going to function anymore or the community has to transform and change, then it’s okay. It doesn’t mean it’s a failure, it just means that there is a new thing that wants to come through, and that’s okay.

I really would love to know when did you realize that the “setback” with Goddess Council would serve as a guide for future efforts, as something to help others?

I would say about seven months after I closed down the business. I just had so much to process for myself that I knew that writing would help me make sense of what I had just done or what I had just gone through. So it started off as something for me to just be able to put it away, to be like, “Okay, we’ve processed this, we’ve made sense of everything.” And then I was like, “Well, what if this is bigger than you? What if this isn’t just a writing process for you to make sense of this but, instead, is an offering that you can share from this chapter of your life that would allow people to make more sense of your story, to fill in some gaps that maybe were left behind?”

Never a failure, always a lesson. So that was an opportunity for me to also change the way I framed that whole experience of it being a failure and instead it being a lesson. And then I was going to make a book out of the lesson, and by doing so, end that chapter with a more progressive, forward-thinking, positive attitude versus one of shame.

What were some other practical steps that helped you maintain resilience?

Journaling. I will say that a million times over. When I wasn’t writing the book, I was writing in my journal, I was filling up journals left and right because I needed to synthesize the feelings that were coming about every day. Every day was different. There was a new realization, there was a new grief point, a new thing that I realized, and I wanted to try my best to not dump any of that on people that loved me. I didn’t want to share that online prematurely. And I also wanted to make sure that I documented that whole process because one day I’ll look back on all of those journals and see the actual healing happening in real time, and that’ll be nice to just be able to reflect on my own journey in private. And so journaling was a big one for me.

And opening up space for play and for open-ended living. I know that’s a privilege to be able to do that, but I think being able to live a life for the past few years where I didn’t have a schedule and I was able to lean into play and into art and just take in the beauty of the world and things that other people create also allowed me to remember that life is bigger than just a moment or a point of grief. There’s a lot more that goes into all of this life thing. And I wanted to make sure that I was diving into that and allowing my life to be as colorful as possible.

And I think that, not that it distracted me, but it just constantly reminded me that it was bigger than me. Everything’s bigger than me. There’s more out there and I don’t have to go into my shell and be depressed about things. I can be sad, but I can also experience joy and wonder and awe at the same time. And so I think embracing the duality of that all really allowed me to just shake up my life and stop looking at it as such a one dimensional experience, and instead just be able to look around and lean into all of the other experiences that were available to me too.

I like that you mentioned the word play, because you talk about that a lot on how important play is in your creative process, but what are the signs that it’s time to sit down and just make the thing?

For me, it’s always when I have an idea that keeps following me at random parts of the day, whether it’s the first thing I wake up or washing dishes and it comes back to me. It’s like the idea is persistent and it’s kind of nagging at you, I don’t know, like a puppy would that you don’t play with. How they’re pawing at you and they’re like, “Pay attention to me. Pay attention to me.”

I’m only going to ask you so many times before I just find somebody else that’ll play with me, and the idea will float to someone else. And Elizabeth Gilbert talks about that in Big Magic, how ideas will stay with you and see if you’re the person that’s going to bring them to life. And if it’s not you, it’ll float to somebody else who will give it the time. That’s kind of how I’ve come to realize that my ideas are, I think of the idea as having its own mind and its own energy.

And so it’s a balance of telling that idea and reaffirming that you’re not neglecting it, but you’re trying to make sure that you set everything up so that you can give it the perfect amount of time. And so even just being able to jot certain things down or give some attention to it along the way, until you get to that point where you’re like, “Okay, I’m sitting down for X amount of time and I’m doing the thing.”

Also, just in case those ideas don’t come to you as freely when you’re finally at the computer to sit down, you can go and source them and be like, okay, what was that thing I wrote down that one day? Ah, okay, this is what I’m going to write about, blah, blah, blah. Instead of being at the computer like, “Well, what am I going to write about today?”

I definitely get that. And I remember throughout your book you emphasizing your why for Goddess Council, Chats With Cat and all these other amazing endeavors. So how do you handle a situation where your original purpose, your why changes, and then you become misaligned?

Well, in the past I handled it in a way that was like, well, I got to go. I have to just leave all of this. And that’s because I didn’t listen to myself along the way. But now I think I would kind of handle it by communicating the feeling of things changing as soon as possible with other people instead of allowing time to pass. Because I think informing is very important, it is one of the best tools that you can lean into when it comes to communication. A lot of times ruptures and confusion happen because somebody feels like they were left out of the loop or they were informed too late or things like that.

Something I’m trying to emphasize and work on in my relationships in general is to just, the moment I feel something is off, try to name it and try to say it as soon as I can. But obviously after I’ve thought about it and I’ve had an ability to articulate my feelings, instead of it just being a rambling thought and then I need to bring this to the people that it is going to impact in some way. And I found that people appreciate when you let them know sooner than later about things.

Even earlier in our conversation, you talked about being burnt out, and in your book you explored it in a way that I’ve never really seen before. What drove you to explore the topic in such depth, and how has it changed your approach to self-care?

I decided to actually investigate and do research about burnout because I was feeling something I’d never felt before. And I thought it was burnout, but the way that everybody had talked about it, I was just like, “Oh, this feels more serious than how people talk about it. So is this burnout or is it not?”

That word was used so casually that I was like, “No, I think this might be something more serious than that.” I realized that burnout exists on a spectrum, and I had reached the pit of it. And I have to be mindful of that because I’m the only person navigating this body. If I don’t take care of myself, then I’m not going to be able to do anything that I want to do. This led me to rethink my self-care and slow down, setting firmer boundaries to protect my health. I try to move in a way that makes more sense, and that oftentimes leads to me saying no to a lot of things and not feeling aligned with certain jobs even. And that comes with its own consequences.

But these days I’m like, “Okay, the stakes are my health.” The stakes are high, and it’s that if I continue to do things that are not aligned with me, then I’m going to go back to that place, which I never want to get back to. So, I’m working on creating income streams that align with my energy flow, allowing me to contribute without burning out. So I can be well while I show up to things that also excite me.

That’s a good way of putting it. Shortly after your move to Mexico City, your space got broken into and your computer that contained all your work got stolen. How have you adapted your creative process when these types of external circumstances change things drastically, especially being in the middle of creating something?

I hope to never be in a situation like that again, but I don’t know. Moments like that just kind of teach you that you have a plan and then God has a plan. I used to be somebody who I think was very kind of obsessed with control as much as I could be. And I think that also led to my burnout because I was so restrictive with wanting things to be a certain way. And I’m really grateful that I was held during that time, that there were people that showed up for me.

I think in terms of going with your creative flow, that was obviously one of those things that I was not expecting. I didn’t work for a month because I didn’t have a computer. And that was a big turning point for me. And it’s never a setback. I know in the moment it doesn’t feel like that, but that happened over a year ago at this point. And I’m reflecting on where I was at that time, and I’m like, “Wow I still did the thing. It didn’t prevent me from moving forward.” And I think it’s just a matter of being the master of your own mind and telling yourself that it is not a sign that you’re not supposed to keep going, but instead maybe an opportunity to see if you’re really serious about how badly you want it.

What are some tips that you can offer other people who are going through a similar transition?

I think it’s a test. I think it’s a test to see what you’re made out of. And I think so many of us have already had tests to see how resilient we are, so it’s not like many of us feel like we need more of those resiliency tests, but life will throw it at you, and it is just a matter of holding on. You can’t give up.

I’m saying this as somebody who has many moments where I’m like, “Maybe this is it.” And I’m like, “No, you have to keep going.” It’s not that I’m perfect or that I constantly am confident or I know that everything’s going to be okay. It’s just in the end, you just know that you don’t have any other choice but to try. And as long as you keep doing that, the answers will reveal themselves like they always do. It always happens. You just have to stay in the game and trust that you have what it takes to figure it out.

Being resourceful is key—whether it’s writing by hand, borrowing a computer, or using a library. And don’t hesitate to ask for help, you never know who might have the solution you need. Just keep doing whatever it takes to stay in the game.

So finally, how has being part and also leading a community impact your own self-discovery process?

Oh, so much. I’ve come to realize that we are way more alike than we are different. People just want to feel seen. People want to feel cared for. And part of my own self-discovery and realizing what I’m here for is just understanding that I’m just here to enhance the human experience for other people and for myself. The more I discover parts of myself, the more I discover parts about other people, because we are all one and the same. And the more I talk about my human experience, the more others feel safe to talk about theirs.

It’s a reminder that we’re all connected, with shared layers of experience and feelings. Sometimes, it just takes one person to voice something vulnerable for others to feel they can, too. Embracing the role of openness, I recognize that my feelings aren’t unique, they’re shared by many. When I feel nervous or exposed, this sense of unity grounds me and reminds me of the universal connection in being human.