I remember setting my first timeout.
Those few minutes to figure out what to do next were as beneficial for me as for my kids.
Turns out, timeouts aren't just for toddlers throwing tantrums:
Traders get a mandatory 2 consecutive weeks of timeout, too.
The New York Department of Finances imposes it to prevent fraud.
They say: 'A trader who doesn't take vacation is a trader who doesn't want anyone else to look at his book.'
Romans, two centuries ago, called it "Otium," a time off for leisure, contemplation, and academic endeavors, as opposed to "Negotium," which meant active public life.
Now, I regularly give myself timeouts.
I just call them differently: breaks, vacations, etc.
When I feel the heat at the edge of burnout, I immediately plan a space to pause optimization, cool down, turn off screens, and non-stop-doing.
I remember the pride of juggling work, life, and health.
TBH, New Yorkers would be on the podium if hustling was an Olympic discipline.
Burnouts happen when the brain wants yet another accomplishment.
We think we can negotiate with ourselves, but have you tried to deal with a toddler high on sugar?
The only thing that worked for me was a self-imposed timeout to face my need for external validation and my not-enoughness.
Timeouts are also a fantastic time to recharge our batteries.
In fact, some luxury companies' cultures are like the Hunger Games, so when I interview candidates, I first check their mindsets.
The Work Hard, Play Hard is no longer sustainable.
All the pros have gone hybrid and prioritize self-care.
Inspired, I tweaked my summer program to refuel my physical, emotional, and mental batteries with:
1- Big Nature
I thought I was in shape because my NY routine includes runs, yoga, and lifting weights. Getting out of the gym and into nature is humbling; it seems mountains don't have an off-switch like treadmills!
2- Forgiveness
To erase the buildup of a semester of micro resentments and words I wish I hadn't said, my go-to is the super simple and magical Ho'ponopono practice. It does wonders for relationships with the self and others.
3- Imagination
Finally, I starve my hyperactive left brain and give my right brain an all-you-can-eat buffet.
I ditch Netflix's entertainment numbing and turn on my imagination with flying carpet books - the kind that makes your mind soar to other worlds faster than any business class ticket. This summer's list includes Shibumi, Midnight Library, and Shantaram.
Flirting with burnout is like social smoking, démodé!
Wishing you a rejuvenating summer.
I'm taking you into zero gravity this Fall.
ILG
A