Isn’t it time you built that vacation home?
Nothing fancy–not like the people in those British TV dramas, with a deer park and acres of woodland. That requires a lot of upkeep, not to mention the high ruffled collar.
A private island might be nice, but don’t you want it more accessible? What’s the use of a haven, if you have to travel across the world to get there?
What we’re really looking for isn’t so much a geographical place. It’s a state of mental freedom.
Even when we love our jobs–in fact, especially when we love our job–we reach a point where our reserves are exhausted. Without our noticing, our passion has suddenly morphed into a monster demanding “Feed me!”
It’s known as “burn-out,” and the 21st century is a breeding ground for it.
If anybody knows about burn-out, an ER nurse should.
Kim, who writes about her profession at Emergiblog, provides some meditative thoughts on how to regather your strength.
This is not a painting.
It is an actual photograph taken by my son from the back porch of our family farm in northern California.
Life is slow up there.
Peaceful. Quiet; the plaintive whistle of the train echoing through the town across the highway.
It’s a great place to relax, unwind and change gears.
It has saved my sanity many times.
I think everyone goes through burn-out, at least once. It takes a bit of time to find your limits.
The best way to deal with burn out is to build your “farm” before it hits.
You need a sanctuary. It need not be a physical place, but you need to have something outside of work that ignites your passion.
No, I’m not talking about Orlando Bloom (well, yes I am, but he isn’t available).
It could be a hobby, a sport, politics, music, personal time (shopping, anyone?).
It’s anything that you can do that allows you to recoup all that you have given during and for your work with patients.
Ironically, my passion turned out to be writing about my profession!
It started out as a fun new thing to try and has turned into something that keeps me excited and interested in what I do as a nurse.
And reminds me, even after a hellacious string of non-stop Emergency Department nights, why I’m still willing to keep on doing what I was called to do so long ago.
Virginia Woolf wrote about the intense liberation found in “a room of one’s own.”
Ernest Hemingway referred to his sanctuary as a “clean, well-lighted place.”
Where is yours?
