The one about burnout...exhaustion and creative overflow

Lately, I have been feeling a little burnt out. And not in an I hate my life, I can’t do this anymore kind of way. It’s different, strangely familiar, actually.

It’s a feeling I’ve known before, though I couldn’t name it in the past. It usually comes after long stretches of intense work, meetings, deliverables, technical tasks, but very little creative expression. It’s the quiet kind of burnout that creeps in when you’ve been in routine mode for too long. When your calendar is full, but your imagination is starving.

I now know that what I’m feeling is the weight of pent-up creative energy. It’s not that I’m tired of working , I’m tired of not creating.

In the past, I didn’t recognize it. I would feel physically sick, my body would ache, my mood would shift, I’d feel foggy or restless. I’d go to the hospital, spend money on tests, and everything would come back normal. But deep down, something wasn’t right. My spirit was asking for space, for color, for sound, for play.

And because I didn’t understand that then, my instinct was always to flee. I’d quit jobs. I’d abandon projects. I’d pack my bags and go somewhere new. It felt like the only way out.

But the beautiful thing about growing older, about knowing yourself, is that you start to recognize your own patterns. You start to understand the seasons of your energy, the whispers of your soul. You stop running and start responding.

So this time, my response is fight, not flight.

As someone who values authenticity, this can be hard to navigate. People experience you once, and that version becomes their permanent story of who you are. They don’t always allow room for evolution. But I’m learning that no matter what narrative others hold about me, I still have the capacity to surprise myself. I can unlearn old ways of being and relearn new ones. I can evolve.

Some ways I’m learning to come out of burnout:

1. I need a reset. Sometimes I don’t even know what that means until I do it. In the past, “reset” meant big, rash decisions, a total escape. Now I’m learning that resets can be subtle. They can look like rearranging my room, taking a weekend off, starting my mornings differently, or even spending a day in silence. Anything that recalibrates my mind and helps me feel like I’m starting again.
2. Lots of rest. Not just physical rest, but sensory rest, silence, sunlight, prayer, slow meals, no notifications.
3. Picking up old projects. Instead of starting new things, I revisit the ones I left behind and add new layers to them. Maybe I don’t finish them, but I build on them. It’s a way of reminding myself that creation doesn’t always have to mean beginning, sometimes it means returning.
4. Having honest conversations. With myself first, and then with others. Naming what I’m feeling helps me make sense of it.

And sometimes, it’s not even about not having the time to do the things we say we want to do. Even when the time is there, you may still find yourself unable to do them. Because sometimes, it’s not about time, it’s about energy. The creative kind, the emotional kind, the soul kind. You might have a free weekend and still not touch your paintbrush, your journal, your instrument. Not because you don’t care, but because your spirit hasn’t yet caught up with your schedule.

Today for instance, I found myself thinking about how much I love Kigali, its calm rhythm, its quiet ambition, its promise. I want to build a life here. I keep thinking that if I start now, in ten years everything I plant will have grown and blossomed into something rich and meaningful. A life rooted in purpose, as an expert in communications, and a sought-after fashion designer. Kigali feels like the right place to grow.

There’s something healing about the way this city moves, slow but steady, grounded yet full of vision. It’s teaching me that growth doesn’t always have to be dramatic. It can be quiet, deliberate, faithful. Sometimes the most important work is invisible, the kind that happens inside you before the world ever sees it.

I think of other creatives I’ve admired who have faced the same rhythm, the cycles of creating, burning out, resting, and rising again. Maya Angelou once said she kept multiple projects going at once because she never wanted her creative energy to stagnate. Even Leonardo da Vinci, who left behind dozens of unfinished works, wasn’t scattered, he was just following his curiosity to wherever it led.

I’ve met people like that, too, friends who light up when they’re painting, designing, or writing. And I’ve watched them dim when all they’ve done for months is “produce” without “expressing.” It’s a pattern that lives quietly inside all of us who create for a living.

Sometimes, burnout isn’t the end. It’s just a redirection, a reminder that our spirits need to be fed with the same devotion we give to our deadlines.

So here I am again, familiar with this feeling, but not afraid of it anymore. I know what it’s asking for now.

Not escape, expression.

Not quitting, creating differently.

Not endings, renewals.

And maybe that’s the real beauty of self-awareness, the knowing that what once broke you can now simply guide you back to yourself.

Until next time, keep creating,

Lenora

🌿 Ecclesiastes 3:1

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”

🔥 2 Timothy 1:6

“Fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you…”

💭 Philippians 1:6

“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

💧Isaiah 30:15

“In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”