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Finding Purpose in the Pause

Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on the object we’re waiting for. Charles Stanley

In Praise of the Pause

We’ve all been there – stuck in life’s waiting room, checking our metaphorical watches and wondering when our “real life” will resume. Perhaps you’re in that space right now: between jobs, recovering from an illness, waiting for a loved one, or simply navigating one of life’s inevitable lulls. Your fingers might be drumming against the desk of destiny, impatient for the wait to end.

Life transitions have a peculiar habit of unveiling themselves like a particularly slow theatrical production – complete with multiple intermissions. You’ve finally mustered the courage to change careers? Splendid! Now please take a seat while your applications are stuck in someone’s inbox. Got a promising interview? Wonderful! Here’s a week of anticipation to contemplate every possible outcome, followed by another week awaiting feedback, then perhaps a fortnight to negotiate terms, and oh – don’t forget the notice period at your current position. Each pause feels like a comma in a sentence that refuses to reach its end, as if life is deliberately pacing its revelations like a masterful storyteller. These aren’t so much waiting rooms as they are a series of antechambers, each holding its own particular sort of anticipation, each requiring its own brand of patience. It’s rather like being in a sophisticated treasure hunt where every clue must be properly aged before it can be revealed – maddening perhaps, but undeniably part of the adventure’s charm. The trick isn’t to master the art of waiting (though that would be lovely), but to recognise these sequential pauses as the transition itself – the spaces between the words of an exceptionally effective speech.

I have finally accepted that I’ve been reading these pauses wrong. These supposedly empty spaces in our lives aren’t empty at all, but rather like fallow fields – resting, regenerating, and preparing for unexpected action and abundance.

Life has a peculiar way of forcing us to stop, even when we’re desperately trying to sprint ahead. These enforced pauses aren’t glitches in our life’s timeline; they’re essential paragraphs in our story, often introducing the most mindblowing plot twists.

I. The Paradigm of Waiting

Isn’t it curious how waiting seems to bend the very fabric of time? Ten minutes in a dentist’s chair somehow stretches longer than an hour lost in conversation with an old friend, while a week waiting for important news feels infinitely more substantial than a month of routine. Our minds, those remarkably sophisticated yet occasionally troublesome companions, have a peculiar way of turning waiting periods into psychological obstacle courses. We become amateur fortune tellers, conjuring elaborate scenarios of what might be, professional time-watchers who could medal in the Olympic sport of clock-checking, and unwitting philosophers contemplating the true nature of patience. The paradigm of waiting isn’t merely about duration – it’s about how our minds transform these temporal spaces into emotional landscapes.

Like an enthusiastic but overzealous interior decorator, our brain fills these empty moments with furnished rooms of worry, hope, anticipation, and sometimes, a dash of existential contemplation. The fascinating part isn’t just that we wait, but how we wait – some of us pace the metaphorical corridors of uncertainty like caged tigers, while others settle into the discomfort like it’s an oddly-shaped but potentially interesting piece of modern furniture. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect is how these waiting periods reveal our relationship with control, or rather, our cherished illusion of it. In a world where same-day delivery is considered too slow, the concept of waiting feels almost offensive. Our resistance to pauses runs deeper than mere impatience – it’s woven into the fabric of our modern existence.

Think about it: when was the last time you stood in line without reaching for your phone? Or sat in silence without feeling the need to fill it with something, anything? Our aversion to waiting has become almost pathological, yet psychologists increasingly point to the hidden benefits of these temporary holds in our life’s flow.

II The Purpose of Waiting

It finally has become perfectly clear to me: our brains NEED these pauses. Like a computer running too many programs, we require moments of defragmentation. The difference between passive waiting and active engagement lies not in the external circumstances but in our internal response to them.

A. The Delightful Irony of Self-Discovery

Imagine your life as a pond. When you’re constantly in motion, the water is stirred up, murky. It’s only when you allow yourself to be still that the sediment settles and you can see clearly to the bottom. This is what pauses offer us – a chance to see beneath the churning surface of our daily lives.

During these times, you might discover that your long-held dreams have evolved, or that what once drove you no longer serves you. These insights rarely arrive in the rush of regular life; they need time to surface, like shy woodland creatures emerging only when the forest grows quiet.

The delightful irony of self-discovery during life’s pauses is that it often arrives like an unexpected dinner guest – precisely when you’ve stopped preparing for company. There you are, somewhat annoyed at being temporarily derailed from your carefully plotted course, when suddenly you find yourself having the most fascinating conversation with yourself. It’s rather like finding a door in your own house that you somehow never noticed before, despite walking past it countless times. Behind it often lies the most curious collection of realisations: that your definition of success has quietly rewritten itself while you weren’t looking, that your five-year plan might benefit from being a bit less five-year-ish and a bit more authentic-ish, or that your true talents have been patiently waiting in the wings while you’ve been spotlighting the ones you thought you should have.

These moments of enforced stillness during life transitions have a rather impertinent way of holding up mirrors we didn’t ask for, reflecting back questions we didn’t know we needed to answer. The beauty of these reflective interludes lies not just in the answers they provide, but in their uncanny ability to upgrade the quality of our questions. It’s as if the pause itself acts as a sort of psychological concierge, politely but firmly suggesting that while we’re here, we might want to explore the lower floors of our internal architecture.

B. An Unexpected Opportunity to Build Relationships

Pauses have a wonderful way of highlighting what truly matters. When the usual distractions of busy life fade away, relationships come into sharper focus. These are the moments when you might finally have that deep conversation with your teenager, reconnect with an old friend, or simply be present with your partner without one eye on the clock.

Think of relationships like gardens – they need regular tending, yes, but they also need those long, quiet moments of simply sitting and appreciating what’s growing.

Life’s transitions, with their maddening series of waiting periods, often orchestrate an unexpected waltz of reconnection. There you are, caught in the interlude between interview rounds, or perhaps in that peculiar limbo between accepting a new position and your actual start date, when suddenly these temporal pockets become relationship incubators. It’s as if each pause in the transition serves as a different lens through which to view your connections – one week you’re sharing your hopes over coffee with an old mentor, the next you’re having unexpectedly profound conversations with your partner about shared futures, and then you’re rediscovering the joy of midday calls with your sister who’s been through similar changes.

These repeated pauses have a rather clever way of revealing the magnificent tapestry of your support network, thread by golden thread. Like a social sommelier, each waiting period brings out different notes in your relationships: the friend who excels at celebrating small victories becomes invaluable during the pause after a successful first interview, while the pragmatic problem-solver in your circle shines during the strategic waiting game of salary negotiations. Even those comfortable silences with your oldest friends take on new depth – there’s something rather magical about sharing a quiet moment with someone who understands that not every pause needs to be filled with words.

The beauty of these sequential waiting rooms is how they transform our connections from static photographs into living, breathing stories. That colleague who used to be just a friendly face at the coffee machine suddenly becomes a cherished confidante during your parallel career transitions. The parent who was always “too busy” might find themselves with precisely the right kind of time to bridge generational gaps. It’s rather like discovering that what you thought was a solo performance has actually been an ensemble piece all along – each pause in your transition revealing another instrument in your relationship orchestra.

C. Skill Development during Productive Rest

Remember how Einstein said he had his best ideas while sailing? There’s something about stepping away from the intense focus on progress that paradoxically enables deeper learning and growth. This is what I like to call “productive rest” – the kind of pause that looks like nothing on the outside but is quietly revolutionary on the inside.

Whether it’s finally learning that language you’ve been putting off, developing your artistic skills, or simply mastering the art of patience (arguably one of life’s most valuable skills), pauses provide the perfect incubator for personal development.

What’s particularly fascinating about skill development during life’s transitional pauses is how each waiting period seems to serve up its own unique learning menu. A life transition’s multiple waiting rooms can become impromptu classrooms: that nerve-wracking week between submitting an application and hearing back suddenly morphs into an unexpected master class in emotional regulation. The fortnight waiting for final contract negotiations becomes a pop-up seminar in professional diplomacy. It’s rather like finding yourself enrolled in a university where the curriculum reveals itself one pause at a time, and the syllabus is written in invisible ink that only becomes legible when you stop trying so hard to read it.

These sequential pauses have an almost mischievous way of building upon each other, creating a sort of skill-development symphony. The patience you cultivated during the first waiting period becomes the foundation for the resilience you’ll need in the third. The networking finesse you stumbled upon while waiting for interview responses mysteriously transforms into leadership potential during the pause before your role transition. It’s as if each waiting room is equipped with its own peculiar set of training equipment for your personal and professional gymnasium – some visible, some cunningly disguised as obstacles, all surprisingly essential.

The most delightful plot twist in this developmental narrative is how these enforced pauses often lead to the acquisition of skills we never even thought to put on our professional wish list. Who knew that the art of crafting the perfect follow-up email could be as nuanced as Japanese tea ceremony? Or that waiting for responses would provide an advanced course in reading between the lines of professional communication? These aren’t just skills we’re developing; they’re more like subtle superpowers that reveal themselves only when we’re forced to slow dance with uncertainty. And perhaps the most valuable skill of all – the ability to find comfort in discomfort – tends to sneak up on us like a friendly cat, making itself at home in our psychological living room when we least expect it.

III. Reframing the Wait

Here’s a thought experiment: imagine if every great achievement in history came with a timestamp showing the waiting periods that preceded it. We’d see how Leonardo da Vinci’s paintings involved months of watching paint dry, how Newton’s laws of physics germinated during a plague-induced quarantine, and how countless innovations emerged from periods of forced pause.

The key to transforming waiting from an obstacle to an opportunity lies in this shift of perspective. It’s about seeing the pause not as a held breath, but as the inhale before a powerful declaration.

Imagine transforming your waiting period into a walking meditation along the ancient paths of the Camino de Santiago – a rather ingenious plot twist in your transition story, wouldn’t you say? Like a perfectly timed intermission in life’s grand performance, these 5- or 7-day walking retreats offer something rather extraordinary: the chance to literally walk your way through liminal space. There’s something almost alchemical about how the rhythmic stepping along centuries-old trails, accompanied by fellow walkers who understand the art of meaningful pauses, can transform the anxiety of waiting into a purposeful journey. As your boots get to know the well-worn paths, each step becomes a deliberate act of moving forward while paradoxically embracing the pause – rather like learning to dance with uncertainty instead of trying to outrun it. The Camino has a delightfully subtle way of rearranging your internal furniture; those swirling thoughts about pending decisions or awaited responses tend to settle into a more manageable pattern when viewed through the lens of ancient pilgrim paths and shared evening conversations. It’s not just a walk, you see, but rather a masterclass in the art of productive waiting – where the challenging hills mirror your current transitions, the companionable silence of fellow pilgrims offers unexpected insights, and the daily rhythm of walking-resting-reflecting creates a template for navigating life’s other waiting rooms with newfound grace. Think of it as upgrading your waiting room to a walking room, where the view constantly changes but the wisdom remains constant.

Because creating purpose-driven routines during waiting periods doesn’t mean filling every moment with activity – that would defeat the purpose. Instead, think of it as creating a gentle framework for growth. This might mean setting aside specific times for reflection, learning, or connection, while allowing plenty of space for spontaneity and rest.

Consider developing what I call a “pause portfolio” – a collection of activities, questions, and practices that help you find meaning in these intervals. This isn’t about pressuring yourself to be productive; it’s about remaining open to the possibilities that emerge when we stop pushing so hard.

IV. The Art of Waiting Well

The art of finding purpose in the pause isn’t about transforming waiting time into working time. Rather, it’s about recognising that these apparent voids in our forward momentum are actually fertile ground for some of life’s most meaningful developments. Like a master chef who knows that letting ingredients rest is as important as active cooking time, we can learn to appreciate and utilize these moments of apparent stillness.

Waiting isn’t wasted. It’s the fermentation of ideas, the fallow field before the harvest, the quiet inhale before the roar. Stop treating it like an inconvenience and start seeing it for what it is: fertile ground for something you can’t yet see but desperately need.

Hit the pause button and regain your footing during a From Troubled to Triumphant: Find Solid Ground during Life Quakes Retreat. Imagine walking a peaceful stretch of the Camino de Santiago, where every step helps untangle the mental clutter or spending time with gentle Friesian horses who teach you the art of mindfulness. These retreats blend reflection and relaxation in a way that feels more like an exciting adventure than hard work. Whether you choose to make a change or are forced to, this retreat offers the perfect blend of peace, perspective, and playful exploration to help you rise from troubled to triumphant!

Author Bio: Dr Margaretha Montagu – described as a “game changer”, “gifted healer”, “guiding light” and “life-enriching author” – is an experienced medical doctor, a certified NLP practitioner, a medical hypnotherapist, an equine-assisted psychotherapist (EAGALAcertified) and a transformational retreat leader who guides her clients through life transitions – virtually, or with the assistance of her Friesian and Falabella horses, at their home in the southwest of France.

Imagine having a survival toolkit ready next time you’re hit by a life-shattering transition. When you subscribe to my Savoir Vivre Vignettes newsletter, you get FREE access to my How to Survive a Life Quake 7-part online course (valued at €79). This isn’t just another online course; it’s a heartfelt made-with-love guide packed with tools to help you face and thrive through life’s transitions with resilience. I’d love for you to join our community!

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Silent Superheroes: Why We All Need Introverted Friends

The Surprising Benefits of Befriending an Introvert

Introduction

As I have several introverted friends (and I am an introvert, or a covert-introvert, myself, ) I have discovered that introverts can provide invaluable support during life transitions. We excel at providing emotional support and offer a calming presence during turbulent times. Our ability to listen attentively and process information thoughtfully allows us to offer insightful advice and genuine empathy during major life changes.

Carl Jung created the term “introvert” (and its opposite extreme, extrovert), but even he noted that introverts and extroverts are a minority. Between those two extremes are the largest group of personalities: people known as ambiverts. Psychologist Adam Grant has studied ambiverts extensively and believes they comprise up to two-thirds of the population.

That means that introverts are a minority, making up roughly 16 percent of people. 

Introverts will allow you to process your emotions and thoughts at your own pace. We can provide undivided attention and create a judgment-free space for you to express your insecurities. Introverts can help you reflect on your experiences, gain new perspectives, and find meaning in the changes you’re going through as Shelley’s story shows:

The Loud One and the Listener

Shelly had always been a human confetti cannon—bursting into rooms with a crackle of lightning, leaving everyone dazzled or at least dusted with glitter. She thrived on attention, the undisputed queen of cocktail banter, viral Instagram posts, and spontaneous karaoke. Extroverted to her marrow, she was the person you’d want to sit next to at a dull wedding, assuming you didn’t mind losing your voice from laughing too hard.

But lately, Shelly’s trademark sparkle had faded. Her job, once a carnival of excitement, had devolved into the bureaucratic equivalent of watching beige paint dry. The adventurer in her craved change.

What she hadn’t anticipated, however, was how soul-crushing the job hunt would be. The odd interview she was invited to felt like a dreadful blind date without any follow-up. Even Shelly’s unparalleled ability to turn a bad day into a meme-worthy anecdote faltered. It was like trying to start a campfire in the rain.

Enter Jenna.

Jenna worked in the same office, at the desk directly adjacent to Shelly’s, a proximity that had somehow never translated into friendship. Quiet to the point of near invisibility, Jenna was organised, efficient, and notably short on small talk. She and Shelly had coexisted for three years with no more than the occasional exchange of pleasantries. To Shelly, Jenna was….polite. Possibly powered down when no one was looking.

But during one kitchen chat—a rare alignment of their coffee breaks—Shelly let slip her job-hunting woes. To her surprise, Jenna’s eyes lit up, a spark of recognition that made Shelly wonder if her neighbour had secretly been replaced by a more animated version.

“I remember how brutal that can be,” Jenna said. “Want some help with your resume?”

Shelly blinked, her brain stalling like a browser tab loading a heavy page. Jenna…helpful? It seemed improbable, but Shelly’s desperation outweighed her scepticism.

“Yes, please,” she said, because the alternative was sinking in the bottomless rejection pit.

That’s when Shelly discovered Jenna wasn’t just helpful; she was a Swiss Army knife of job-hunting expertise.

Jenna didn’t merely tweak Shelly’s resume. She transformed it, sharpening each bullet point until the document sparkled with purpose. She unearthed obscure job postings Shelly hadn’t considered, researched companies with the tenacity of an investigative journalist, and—because introverts never do anything halfway—created a colour-coded spreadsheet.

“Where do you find the time for this?” Shelly asked one day, half in awe, half in shame at her own time spent perfecting TikTok dances.

Jenna shrugged, not even looking up from the spreadsheet. “I don’t spend all my energy on happy hour.”

Touché.

The more time Shelly spent with Jenna, the more she realised how different they were. While Shelly’s default mode was “fireworks display,” Jenna’s was “intense focus.” She didn’t crack jokes to lift Shelly’s spirits; she offered a grounding presence that said, You’re not in this on your own.

In the midst of their prep for yet another interview, Shelly blurted out, “I’m starting to think introverts might secretly be superheroes.”

Jenna smirked, sipping her tea. “Introverts are good at one thing: listening while everyone else is talking.”

It hit Shelly like a gong. Jenna hadn’t been silent all these years because she had nothing to say. She’d quietly been paying attention, absorbing details most other people missed.

A month later, Shelly landed her dream job—a role that fit her like a perfectly tailored blazer. The first person she contacted wasn’t her mom or one of her Instagram followers. It was Jenna.

“You did it!” Jenna said, her voice warm and a little louder than usual.

“No,” Shelly corrected, grinning ear to ear. “We did it.”

Because sometimes, it’s not the loudest person in the room who makes the greatest impact. Sometimes, it’s the quiet ones who make things happen.

10 Surprising Benefits of Befriending Introverts

Shelly’s story highlights some of the benefits of having an introverted friend, but not all of them. Introverts also offer:

Understanding and Acceptance

Strong Connections: Introverts often value quality over quantity when it comes to relationships. They aren’t interested in shallow exchanges or fleeting encounters. Instead, they invest their time and energy in forming meaningful bonds. A friendship with an introvert is a gateway to authentic conversations that go beyond the superficial. If you’re looking for someone who truly listens and understands, an introvert will be your go-to confidant.

Non-Judgmental Attention: Introverts typically create a safe environment for their friends, allowing for open and honest conversations without the pressure of small talk. This setting encourages vulnerability and authenticity, making it easier to share thoughts and feelings.

Respect for Boundaries: Introverts understand the importance of personal space and downtime. They are likely to respect their friends’ need for alone time, fostering a relationship based on mutual understanding of each other’s social needs.

Unique Perspectives

Thoughtful Insights: Introverts often reflect before they speak, taking the time to analyse situations and behaviour. This means they can offer perspectives you may not have considered. Their thoughtful insights can enrich your understanding and help you navigate challenges more effectively. Their tendency to think before they speak can lead to interesting discussions that challenge conventional viewpoints.

Creative Problem Solving: Many introverts excel in creative thinking and problem-solving. They often approach challenges from different angles, which can be beneficial in collaborative situations or when seeking advice.

Emotional Support

Loyalty and Reliability: Introverts don’t take friendships lightly. If they let you into their inner world, it’s because they genuinely care about you. They are often dependable, fiercely loyal, and willing to go the extra mile for the people they love. They’ll be there for you during tough times, providing support and understanding when you need it most.

Counterbalance to the Chaos: Life is often hectic, and we all need a safe haven from time to time. Introverts radiate a calm, grounded energy. Spending time with an introverted friend can feel like a soothing retreat—no need to perform, impress, or compete. You can simply be yourself.

Active Listening Skills: Introverts have a knack for active listening. They take the time to understand their friends’ feelings and perspectives. They excel at tuning in, picking up on nuances, and giving you their full attention. They won’t interrupt you with unrelated anecdotes or dominate the conversation. Instead, they’ll offer thoughtful responses, helping you feel seen and heard—a rare treasure in today’s fast-paced world.

Confidentiality: Trust is the cornerstone of any strong friendship, and introverts excel in this arena. Their reserved nature makes them natural secret-keepers. You can confide in an introverted friend without worrying about your personal matters becoming public knowledge.

Befriending an introvert can lead to enriching experiences characterised by strong emotional connections, thoughtful conversations, and mutual support.

Misconceptions About Introverts and Friendship

There are several common misconceptions about introverts and their capacity for friendship that can lead to misunderstandings. Some of the most prevalent myths:

1. Introverts Don’t Like People
Contrary to popular belief, introverts do enjoy social interactions; they simply prefer deeper connections with a few close friends rather than superficial relationships with many acquaintances. Introverts value their friendships highly and often form strong bonds with those they trust.

2. Introverts Are Shy
Introverts may be quiet or reserved, but this does not mean they are afraid of social situations. They often engage in conversations when they feel there is a meaningful topic to discuss.

3. Introverts Are Rude or Aloof
Introverts may come across as standoffish due to their preference for fewer words and more meaningful exchanges. This behaviour can be misinterpreted as rudeness, but it stems from their desire for authenticity rather than small talk.

4. Introverts Prefer to Be Alone
While introverts do enjoy solitude and need time alone to recharge, they also crave genuine connections. They can feel lonely without meaningful interactions, highlighting their need for companionship despite their introverted nature.

5. Introverts Are Anti-Social
This misconception suggests that introverts avoid social situations entirely, which is not true. They may prefer smaller gatherings or quieter environments but can still enjoy socialising within their comfort zones.

6. Introverts Don’t Know How to Have Fun
Introverts have their own ways of enjoying life that may differ from extroverted norms. They often find joy in quieter activities like reading, hiking, or engaging in deep conversations rather than large parties or loud events.

7. Introverts Can Become Extroverts
There is a belief that introverts can “fix” themselves to become more extroverted, but this overlooks the inherent value of introversion. Each personality type brings unique strengths and contributions, and introversion should not be seen as a deficiency that needs correction.

8. Introverts Are Not Good Leaders
There is a stereotype that effective leaders must be extroverted, charismatic, and outgoing. However, many introverts possess strong leadership qualities such as active listening, empathy, and the ability to think critically. They often lead by example and can inspire others through their thoughtful approach and calm demeanour.

9. Introverts Don’t Enjoy Group Activities
While introverts may prefer smaller gatherings, they can still enjoy group activities—especially if they are structured in a way that allows for meaningful interaction. For instance, they may thrive in workshops, book clubs, or team projects where they can contribute without the pressure of constant socialising.

10. Introverts Are Always Quiet
While introverts may be quieter in large groups, they can be quite expressive and animated in one-on-one conversations or small settings where they feel comfortable. Their passion and enthusiasm can shine through when discussing topics they care deeply about, debunking the notion that they are always reserved.

Understanding that introverts have different social needs and preferences can lead to more fulfilling friendships based on mutual respect and understanding.

Introverts need Support during Life Transitions too

Life transitions can be particularly challenging for introverts, who often process change internally and may feel overwhelmed by external pressures to “figure it all out.” This is why so many introverts are drawn to my Camino de Santiago walking retreats, which offer a sanctuary of quiet reflection and thoughtful guidance.

Unlike large, bustling group events, these retreats provide a peaceful, intimate setting with small groups, where participants can explore their emotions at their own pace. The combination of gentle walks along the Camino, opportunities for meaningful conversations, and plenty of personal downtime makes these retreats uniquely appealing to introverts. They appreciate the balance of solitude and connection, the structured yet flexible support, and the chance to recharge in a space designed with their needs in mind.

Step away from the noise and discover the clarity you’ve been searching for—reserve your place on the next Camino de Santiago walking retreat today!

Email me at welcome2gascony@gmail.com to inquire about availability

Author Bio: Dr Margaretha Montagu – described as a “game changer”, “gifted healer”, “guiding light” and “life-enriching author” – is an experienced medical doctor, a certified NLP practitioner, a medical hypnotherapist, an equine-assisted psychotherapist (EAGALAcertified) and a transformational retreat leader who guides her clients through life transitions – virtually, or with the assistance of her Friesian and Falabella horses, at their home in the southwest of France.

Hit the pause button and regain your footing during a From Troubled to Triumphant: Find Solid Ground during Life Quakes Retreat. Imagine walking a peaceful stretch of the Camino de Santiago, where every step helps untangle the mental clutter or spending time with gentle Friesian horses who teach you the art of mindfulness. These retreats blend reflection and relaxation in a way that feels more like an exciting adventure than hard work. Whether you choose to make a change or are forced to, this retreat offers the perfect blend of peace, perspective, and playful exploration to help you rise from troubled to triumphant!

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A Light-Hearted Guide to Dealing with Difficult People at Work

“The key is not to prioritise what’s on your schedule, but to schedule your priorities.” – Stephen Covey

We’ve all been there. That colleague who seems to have a PhD in pushing your buttons, the office drama enthusiast who turns every meeting into a soap opera, or the perpetual complainer who could find fault with free pizza. While you can’t control their behaviour, you can control your response. Enter the JADE method – Don’t Justify, Argue, Defend, or Explain. This approach can save your sanity and maybe even make those workplace challenges a tad more entertaining.

Don’t Justify

Ah, justification – that irresistible urge to prove you’re right, even when nobody asked. It’s like trying to convince your cat why it should use its expensive bed instead of the cardboard box it came in.

What It Looks Like:

Picture Sarah from accounting, who always questions your expense reports. You find yourself writing paragraph-long emails explaining why that client lunch at Chipotle was absolutely necessary for business development.

What To Do Instead:

  • Keep responses brief and factual: “The expense follows company policy.”

  • Use the broken record technique: Repeat the same simple statement without elaboration.

Real-World Example:

Difficult Coworker: “I can’t believe you took lunch at 1 PM instead of noon. That’s not how we do things here.” Old You: “Well, you see, I had this important call, and then my morning got backed up because the printer jammed, and Mercury is in retrograde…” New You: “1 PM works best with my schedule. Thanks for understanding!”

Remember: You don’t need to justify your legitimate choices any more than you need to justify why you prefer chocolate ice cream over vanilla. It is what it is.

Don’t Argue

Arguments at work are like trying to teach a fish to juggle – frustrating, pointless, and likely to leave everyone irritated and confused. When someone’s itching for a fight, refusing to engage isn’t being passive; it’s being emotionally intelligent.

What It Looks Like:

Meet Bob from IT, who insists that your computer problems would disappear if you just switched to his preferred operating system. He’s ready to die on this hill, and he’s prepared to take you with him.

What To Do Instead:

  • Practice the art of the strategic subject change.

  • Master the non-committal “hmm” (bonus points for varying the pitch.)

Real-World Example:

Bob: “This wouldn’t have happened if you were using LinuxExtremePro2000!” Old You: “Actually, studies show that my current system is more efficient for our specific needs, and here are fifteen reasons why…” New You: “Interesting perspective, Bob. Hey, did you catch the game last night?”

Think of arguments like quicksand – the more you struggle, the deeper you sink into the unproductive abyss.

Don’t Defend

Defending yourself at work can feel as natural as checking your phone during a boring meeting. But just like that phone check, it’s usually unnecessary and can get you into serious trouble.

What It Looks Like:

Enter Linda, the self-appointed Office Protocol Officer, who’s horrified that you used Calibri instead of Arial in your presentation. She’s convinced this choice reflects poorly on your professional judgment, your upbringing, and possibly your entire generation.

What To Do Instead:

  • Embrace the power of “I appreciate your feedback.”

  • Perfect your “fascinated scientist” expression while observing their behaviour.

Real-World Example:

Linda: “I can’t believe you didn’t CC the entire department on that email about the missing break room spoon.” Old You: “I only included relevant team members because studies show that unnecessary CCing reduces productivity and besides…” New You: “Thanks for letting me know your preference. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Remember: Your work should speak for itself. If it doesn’t, no amount of defending will make it better. If it does, no amount of criticism can make it worse.

Don’t Explain

Explaining is like trying to fill a bottomless cup – no matter how much you pour in, some people will always want more. Save your breath for cooling your coffee instead.

What It Looks Like:

Meet Tom, who needs to understand the complete psychological, philosophical, and metaphysical reasoning behind why you chose to use blue sticky notes instead of yellow ones.

What To Do Instead:

  • Perfect the art of the concise response.

  • Master the “that’s just how it is” shrug.

Real-World Example:

Tom: “But WHY did you start the meeting at 10:05 instead of 10:00?” Old You: “Well, you see, I was following this fascinating time management article that suggests slight delays can actually increase attendance and engagement, and there’s this whole psychology behind it…” New You: “That’s when the meeting was scheduled. Shall we review the agenda?”

Further useful phrases:

  • “I hear what you’re saying.”

  • “I’ll give that some thought.”

  • “Let’s focus on the task at hand.”

  • “That’s an interesting perspective.”

  • “I’ve made my decision on this.”

0bviously, the No-JADE approach doesn’t always work and isn’t always appropriate, but it can significantly reduce the time you waste trying to deal with impossible difficult people.

Success Stories

Consider Maria, who used to spend hours crafting detailed emails defending her project timelines to sceptical stakeholders. After embracing the no-JADE approach, she simply started responding with “The timeline is set based on our resources and requirements. I’ll update you on our progress at the next check-in.” Miraculously, the universe didn’t implode, and she gained back hours of her life.

Or take James, who stopped explaining why he couldn’t attend every single optional team happy hour. Instead of providing elaborate explanations involving his dog’s therapy sessions and his commitment to underwater basket weaving, he now simply says, “I won’t be able to make it. Have fun!” Revolutionary.

Or Louise, who attended a From Troubled to Triumphant: Finding Solid Ground During Life Transitions retreat a year after she walked the last 100km of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela in Spain.

She had many fascinating stories to share about her adventure and about the sometimes difficult people she came across during her walk: “I always thought I had the patience of a saint. You know, the kind of person who smiles through chaos, listens empathetically when your coworker spends another lunch hour ranting about their neighbour’s cat destroying their garden, and graciously lets someone with three items cut ahead in the grocery line. But somewhere along the way—probably in my early 50s—my patience decided to pack its bags and go on a permanent vacation.

So, naturally, I decided to walk the Camino de Santiago. Because what better way to find inner peace and figure out how to deal with difficult people than walking 30 kilometers a day with a bunch of strangers?

It didn’t take long for my fellow pilgrims to reveal themselves as messy humans—just like me. There was Mary, the serial over-sharer who felt the need to recount her entire dating history by Day 2. Tim, who somehow managed to mansplain how to tie your bootlaces. And Carol, bless her heart, who treated every group discussion like her personal TED Talk.

On Day 3, I found myself trudging along a particularly rocky stretch of the Camino, stuck between Tim, who was explaining the “optimal pace” for hill climbing, and Mary, who was oversharing about her ex-husband’s toenail fungus. My inner monologue went something like this: Why did I think this was a good idea? Can I fake an ankle sprain? Do Spanish doctors prescribe wine?

You can’t control difficult people. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve written carefully worded emails, subtly redirected conversations, even practised deep breathing while smiling through gritted teeth. Walking the Camino, listening to Tim and Mary go at it for hours on end, I had a revelation: I didn’t have to engage.

Instead of mentally drafting my snarky comeback to Tim’s lecture on hydration protocols, I focused on the sound of my boots crunching against the gravel. Instead of nodding along to Mary’s tall tales, I simply let her words fade into the background.

And it was… liberating.

On the Camino, you’re never really stuck with anyone. If someone’s getting on your nerves, you can slow down, speed up, or claim you need to “adjust your pack straps” (my go-to excuse). You can set boundaries without being a jerk. It’s okay to say, “Hey, I need some space,” or “Let’s shelf this for now.” You’re not responsible for fixing other people or accommodating every quirk. (Repeat that to yourself until it sticks.)

Difficult people won’t magically stop being difficult, but how you deal with them? That’s entirely up to you. 💪

If you want to walk the Camino, I highly recommend the more structured and supportive approach of Margaretha’s Camino de Santiago Walking retreats – no heavy rucksack to lug around, no desperate search for a bed every night, scrumptious homegrown and homemade food every day and the option of a massage after every walk…much more my style of R&R. Personally, I opted for a From Troubled to Triumphant retreat, because of the stuff I had going on in my life (a seriously messy divorce resulting in a career change, move to a different country and an empty nest. So good that I’ll be back for more next year!”

Conclusion: Embracing the no-JADE lifestyle

Remember, not JADEing isn’t about being dismissive or uncooperative. It’s about maintaining healthy boundaries, preserving your energy, and staying focused on what actually matters. Think of it as a superpower – the ability to navigate workplace dynamics while maintaining your sanity and sense of humour.

The next time you feel the urge to justify why you organise your desktop icons by colour instead of type, argue about the proper way to load the dishwasher in the break room, defend your choice of layout in the monthly newsletter, or explain why you prefer to eat lunch at your desk – stop. Take a deep breath. Channel your inner no-JADE warrior.

After all, work is challenging enough without turning every interaction into a congressional hearing. By refusing to JADE, you’re not just making your work life easier; you’re setting an example of professional boundaries that others might just follow.

And if all else fails, remember: Sometimes the most powerful response is simply a serene smile and a well-timed “Thanks for sharing.”

Imagine having a survival toolkit ready next time you’re hit by a life-shattering transition. When you subscribe to my Savoir Vivre Vignettes newsletter, you get FREE access to my How to Survive a Life Quake 7-part online course (valued at €79). This isn’t just another online course; it’s a heartfelt made-with-love guide packed with tools to help you face and thrive through life’s transitions with resilience. I’d love for you to join our community!

Author Bio: Dr Margaretha Montagu – described as a “game changer”, “gifted healer”, “guiding light” and “life-enriching author” – is an experienced medical doctor, a certified NLP practitioner, a medical hypnotherapist, an equine-assisted psychotherapist (EAGALAcertified) and a transformational retreat leader who guides her clients through life transitions – virtually, or with the assistance of her Friesian and Falabella horses, at their home in the southwest of France.

References

George Bucăţa, Marius – Alexandru Rizescu The Role of Communication in Enhancing Work Effectiveness of an Organization March 2017 Land Forces Academy Review 22(1) DOI:10.1515/raft-2017-0008

Irfan ul Haq, Riffat Faizan Communication Within the Workplace: Systematic Review of
Essentials of Communication International Journal of Applied Business and Management Studies Vol. 8, No.2; 2023 ISSN 2548-0448

Tourish D., & Robson P. (2004). Critical upward feedback in organizations: Processes, problems and implications for communication management. Journal of Communication Management, 8(2), 150–67.

Milliken. F. J., Morrison, E. W., & Hewlin, P. F. (2003). An Exploratory Study of Employee
Silence: Issues that Employees Don’t Communicate Upward and Why. Journal of
Management Studies, 40(6),1453–76.

Horan, S. M., Chory, R. M., Craw, E. S., & Jones, H. E. (2021). Blended Work/Life Relationships:
Organizational Communication Involving Workplace Peers, Friends, and
Lovers. Communication Research Trends, 40(2), 3–47.

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Understanding Empathy Burnout and How to Recognise It in Yourself

Empathy Burnout

When Helping Hurts

Lise came to a From Troubled to Triumphant Transformational Retreat at the beginning of autumn as a last-minute booking. She said she was going through a “career change” life transition. She couldn’t cope with her job as a doctor anymore, but she had no clue what she wanted to do next. Right from the start, something felt off. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand her plight, after all, I had been in the exact same place myself more than a decade ago. During the retreat, her actual problem gradually reared its head.

Lise’s Story: The Unbearable Weight of Caring

Lise sat in her small, tidy office at the clinic, staring blankly at her computer screen. The cursor blinked steadily, waiting for her to type up the notes for her last patient. But her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving. She couldn’t find the words—or the energy—to continue. The sound of muffled voices in the waiting room seeped through the walls, a constant reminder that more people needed her.

Her workday had started twelve hours ago, and she had seen 27 patients. Each one had brought her their pain, their struggles, and their fears. And she had listened, as she always did, offering reassurances, treatments, and sometimes just a shoulder to lean on. She loved her work—or at least she used to. Being a general practitioner was more than a job for Lise; it was her calling. But recently, something had shifted.

Ground Hog Day

That morning had been no different from any other, or so it seemed. Her first patient, an elderly man named Louis, came in with chronic back pain. As Lise examined him, he spoke about his wife’s declining health and the burden of being her sole caregiver. His voice cracked as he admitted he hadn’t slept well in months. Lise felt the familiar ache of understanding in her chest. She offered him a referral to a physical therapist and gently suggested he seek respite care for his wife.

The next patient was a young mother, Amélie, who brought in her toddler with a persistent cough. Amélie looked frazzled, her eyes rimmed with dark circles. Between checking the child’s breathing and writing a prescription for antibiotics, Lise found herself listening to Amélie’s worries about balancing work and motherhood. “I don’t know how you manage it all,” Amélie said with a weak smile. Lise didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure how she managed it, either.

By the time Lise reached her lunch break—if you could call the ten-minute gap between patients a “break”—she realised she hadn’t eaten breakfast. She grabbed a granola bar from her desk drawer and took a deep breath. It didn’t help.

The First Ominous Signs

For weeks, Lise had been feeling a debilitating fatigue. It wasn’t the kind of tiredness that a good night’s sleep could fix. It was deeper, heavier, as though her very soul was weary. She had started to dread coming to work, something she never imagined would happen. The sight of her packed schedule filled her with a sense of dread.

But the worst part was the emotional numbness. Lise, who had always prided herself on her ability to connect with her patients, found herself tuning out during consultations. When a patient began to cry, her instinct was no longer to comfort them but to mentally check out.

At first, she chalked it up to being overworked. After all, healthcare was a demanding field, and everyone felt overwhelmed sometimes. But this was different. It wasn’t just exhaustion; it was detachment.

Lisa’s Final Breaking Point

Lise’s breaking point came on a rainy Thursday afternoon. Her patient was a teenager named Juliette, who had been struggling with anxiety and self-harm. Juliette’s mother sat beside her, tears streaming down her face as she described finding the scars on her daughter’s arms. Normally, Lise would have felt a wave of compassion and determination to help. But as she listened, all she felt was a hollow emptiness. She nodded at the right moments, prescribed therapy, and scheduled a follow-up. But inside, she felt nothing.

When the appointment ended and Juliette left the room, Lise stayed behind, frozen in her chair. She stared at the clock on the wall, her hands trembling. How had she gotten to this point? How could she care so much and yet feel so little?

Enter Empathy Burnout

During the retreat, Lise confided. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing everyone. My patients, myself… even my partner.”

The other retreat guests and I reassured her. “You’re not failing, Lise. You’re just human. You’ve been carrying too much for too long.”

I also told her that I didn’t think that she was going through a life transition, but that I thought she was suffering from empathy burnout. I explained that empathy burnout, or compassion fatigue, was a state of emotional exhaustion resulting from excessive emotional demands. It wasn’t just physical tiredness; it was the toll of constantly absorbing other people’s pain. Caregivers, healthcare workers, and anyone in the helping professions were especially vulnerable. The symptoms matched hers: emotional numbness, irritability, reduced empathy, and a sense of detachment.

Drafting Her Map to Recovery

Recognising the problem was the first step. But solving it required more than acknowledgement. Lise knew she needed to make changes when she got back—not just for herself, but for her patients.

We talked about starting small. Instead of skipping lunch, she decided she was going to step outside the clinic, even if just for 15 minutes, to eat a homemade sandwich and breathe fresh air. She would practise mindfulness, the way the horses’ taught her during the retreat, setting aside ten minutes each morning to meditate. At first, it might feel forced, but I was sure, over time, it would become a moment of calm she looked forward to.

One of the hardest tasks she set herself was learning to set boundaries. Lise had always been the doctor who went above and beyond, but she realised she couldn’t pour from an empty cup. She decided to delegate some of her work to her clinical staff, whenever appropriate. She also began seeing a supervising therapist, someone she could talk to without fear of judgement.

Reconnecting with Her “Why”

Back home, Lise implemented her plan. She soon started to notice subtle changes. She began to feel lighter, more present. The numbness gradually gave way to genuine care. One day, a patient thanked her for her kindness during a difficult diagnosis, and for the first time in a long time, Lise felt the warmth of being appreciated for her work again.

She reminded herself why she had become a doctor in the first place: to help people heal, both physically and emotionally.

It took time for Lise to get back on track; empathy burnout wasn’t something you can heal from overnight. But it taught her a valuable lesson: caring for others starts with caring for yourself. She learned that empathy, while a beautiful and necessary part of her work, had to be balanced with boundaries and self-compassion.

The Definition of Empathy Burnout

Empathy burnout, also known as “compassion fatigue,” is a state of emotional and physical exhaustion that occurs when someone has been giving a great deal of empathy or support to others over an extended period. This condition is common among professionals in caregiving roles—like healthcare workers, therapists, and counsellors—as well as individuals who provide ongoing support to friends or family members in need. When someone constantly listens to others’ pain, absorbs emotional burdens, or provides support, it can lead to an overwhelming sense of fatigue, detachment, and even helplessness.

What’s the difference between Stress and Empathy Burnout?

Stress is a response to external pressures and can affect anyone, regardless of their emotional involvement with others. Empathy burnout, however, specifically stems from prolonged emotional engagement with others’ pain or struggles. While stress might ebb and flow, empathy burnout is more pervasive and tied to emotional exhaustion.

How do I know it’s Empathy Burnout and not just Tiredness?

Empathy burnout goes beyond physical tiredness. It’s characterized by emotional and psychological fatigue, such as feeling overwhelmed by others’ needs or emotionally drained after interactions. Unlike regular tiredness, rest alone may not improve your energy or mood.

Key Signs

  • Emotional Exhaustion: Feeling drained, short-tempered, or emotionally distant from others.

  • Reduced Empathy: Struggling to feel compassionate or sensitive to others’ struggles, even if you genuinely care.

  • Mental and Physical Fatigue: Experiencing persistent tiredness, headaches, disturbed sleep, and a weakened immune system.

  • Cynicism or Apathy: Feeling jaded or indifferent toward people who need support.

  • Increased Stress and Anxiety: This can lead to feelings of frustration, irritation and even resentment.

Causes

Empathy burnout arises when there’s a lack of balance between giving and receiving emotional support. Without time for self-care, boundary-setting, or recovery, this imbalance can easily become overwhelming. Factors like high emotional investment, limited support systems, and ongoing exposure to difficult emotions contribute to burnout.

Preventing and Managing Empathy Burnout

  • Set Boundaries: Protect your time and energy by establishing clear boundaries.

  • Practice Self-Care: Engage in activities that rejuvenate you—like rest, exercise, mindfulness, creative hobbies, and socialising with supportive friends.

  • Seek Support: Finding a mentor, coach, or peer group can be invaluable.

  • Regular Downtime: Take regular breaks from caregiving roles to recharge your batteries.

  • Consider Professional Help: If empathy burnout is severe, consulting a mental health professional can provide support and strategies to recover.

In the context of a life transition, empathy burnout may be a significant challenge, especially for those who frequently give emotional support to others while navigating their own changes.

The Difference Between a Life Transition and Empathy Burnout

A life transition is a significant change or shift in one’s personal or professional life that disrupts the normal flow of daily living. Examples include career changes, moving to a new place, divorce, retirement, or losing a loved one. Life transitions often involve a mix of emotions, such as excitement, fear, grief, or uncertainty, as individuals adjust to a new reality. These transitions are a natural part of life and, though challenging, they can lead to new insights and new opportunities.

On the other hand, empathy burnout—or compassion fatigue—is a state of emotional exhaustion that arises from repeatedly absorbing the stress, pain, or struggles of others. It is common among caregivers, healthcare workers, and anyone in emotionally demanding roles. Unlike life transitions, empathy burnout stems from giving too much emotional energy to others without adequate self-care or boundaries. It can lead to feelings of numbness, detachment, and even resentment toward those seeking support.

The key difference lies in origin and focus:

  • Life transitions are external changes that affect an individual’s circumstances and require them to adapt. The focus is on navigating their own emotional and practical needs.

  • Empathy burnout is an internal condition caused by overextending emotional energy toward others, leaving little room for self-replenishment.

Both can be draining, but while life transitions often involve rebuilding or starting anew, empathy burnout requires recognizing the imbalance in giving and receiving support, then implementing self-care strategies to recover emotional resilience.

Empathy Burnout Self-Assessment FAQ

1. Do you feel emotionally numb or disconnected when others share their problems?

Signs to watch for:

  • Finding yourself unable to react emotionally to others’ distress

  • Catching yourself thinking “I don’t care anymore” when hearing about others’ struggles

  • Feeling irritated or frustrated when people seek emotional support

  • Having a harder time remembering details of others’ problems or situations

Why this matters: Emotional numbness is often one of the first signs of empathy burnout. It’s your mind’s way of protecting itself from emotional overload.

2. Have you noticed changes in your sleep patterns or physical well-being?

Signs to watch for:

  • Difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep

  • Feeling exhausted even after adequate rest

  • Experiencing headaches, digestive issues, or tension more frequently

  • Having less energy for daily activities

  • Increased susceptibility to illness

Why this matters: Empathy burnout often manifests physically before we recognize it emotionally.

3. Are you finding it harder to maintain boundaries between your personal life and others’ needs?

Signs to watch for:

  • Thinking about others’ problems during your personal time

  • Feeling guilty when you’re not available to help

  • Difficulty saying “no” to requests for support

  • Neglecting your own needs to attend to others

  • Bringing work or others’ problems home with you

Why this matters: Healthy boundaries are essential for sustainable empathy. Their erosion often indicates burnout.

4. Do you find yourself avoiding certain people or situations?

Signs to watch for:

  • Hesitating to answer calls or messages from people who might need support

  • Making excuses to avoid social situations

  • Procrastinating on tasks that involve emotional labour

  • Feeling dread when faced with others’ emotional needs

  • Withdrawing from relationships or social activities

Why this matters: Avoidance behaviours often develop as a coping mechanism when our emotional resources are depleted.

5. Has your worldview or self-image changed recently?

Signs to watch for:

  • Increased cynicism about human nature

  • Feeling helpless about making a difference

  • Questioning your competence or effectiveness

  • Loss of faith in people’s ability to solve their problems

  • Decreased sense of personal accomplishment

  • Feeling disconnected from your values or purpose

Why this matters: Changes in core beliefs and self-perception often indicate that empathy burnout is affecting your fundamental worldview.

Note: If you answered “yes” to three or more of these questions and have been experiencing these symptoms for more than two weeks, you may be experiencing empathy burnout. Consider seeking support from a mental health professional who can help you develop strategies for recovery and resilience. – or attend a From Troubled to Triumphant Transformational Retreat in the sun-blessed southwest of France.

Hit the pause button and regain your footing during a From Troubled to Triumphant: Find Solid Ground during Life Quakes Retreat. Imagine walking a peaceful stretch of the Camino de Santiago, where every step helps untangle the mental clutter or spending time with gentle Friesian horses who teach you the art of mindfulness. These retreats blend reflection and relaxation in a way that feels more like an exciting adventure than hard work. Whether you choose to make a change or are forced to, this retreat offers the perfect blend of peace, perspective, and playful exploration to help you rise from troubled to triumphant!

Author Bio: Dr Margaretha Montagu – described as a “game changer”, “gifted healer”, “guiding light” and “life-enriching author” – is an experienced medical doctor, a certified NLP practitioner, a medical hypnotherapist, an equine-assisted psychotherapist (EAGALAcertified) and a transformational retreat leader who guides her clients through life transitions – virtually, or with the assistance of her Friesian and Falabella horses, at their home in the southwest of France.

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Grateful, But Still Terrified: How I’m Tackling Anxiety in the Middle of a Life Transition

Because quitting your job at 42 without a backup plan deserves a little help from a gratitude journal (and a lot of coffee).

Can Gratitude Really Reduce Anxiety During a Life Transition?

The one thing I teach everyone who comes here on a From Troubled to Triumphant Life Transition retreat is that being grateful is an extremely powerful stress management strategy. Gratitude can play a significant role in reducing anxiety during life transitions – I know that from personal experience. NO other strategy comes near, especially if you combine gratitude with generosity. When you are immobilised by uncertainty, acknowledging the positive aspects of life can provide a fresh perspective. We even have a good idea about how it works: we know that practising gratitude helps regulate the sympathetic nervous system, which activates anxiety responses and reduces cortisol levels—the stress hormone—leading to increased resilience. By training your mind to focus on what you are grateful for, you can counteract the anxiety and apprehension that characterise most life transitions. Simple strategies such as keeping a gratitude journal can effectively rewire your brain to handle stress more effectively and reduce anxiety during significant life transitions.

In my free 7-part e-Course, How to Survive a Life Quake, I devote one full part to Gratitude and how you can seamlessly incorporate a Gratitude Practice into your busy everyday life. You can get access to this course by subscribing to my Savoir Vivre Vignettes newsletter.

Shirley N., one of my retreat guests, opted for a coaching package before her retreat. When we met, she had just handed in her resignation letter. This is her story:

So here I am, 42 years old, staring at my laptop with a mix of dread and excitement because I just sent in my resignation letter. 😬 Yep, after 18 years in the same post, I’m officially jumping off the hamster wheel.

And before you ask: no, I don’t have a solid backup plan. Not really. What I do have is a vague dream of becoming a writer-slash-life-coach-slash-whatever-keeps-my-lights-on. Oh, and a crippling case of anxiety that’s decided to camp out in my chest 24/7 since I made this decision. Fun times.

But let me back up and explain how I got here—and why I’m trying this thing called “gratitude” suggested by my coach, dr Margaretha Montagu, as my secret weapon to survive the chaos.

The Decision That Started It All

About three months ago, I was sitting at my desk in my office (read: beige box of existential despair), proofreading yet another soul-sucking report when it hit me: I can’t do this for another decade. It wasn’t just the boredom; it was the constant feeling that my life was going down the drain. You know that scene in The Matrix where Neo wakes up in a pod and is like, “Wait, this is my life?!” Yeah, it was kind of like that.

I thought I’d feel liberated the second I decided to quit, but instead, my brain went into overdrive: What if this is the dumbest decision of your life? What if you never find another job? What if you end up having to sell your furniture on Facebook Marketplace just to pay rent?

Anxiety became my new roommate, and let me tell you—she’s messy, she’s bossy, and she refuses to be quiet.

Discovering Gratitude (Sort of By Accident)

When my coach suggested starting a gratitude practice, I wasn’t convinced. Honestly, I thought gratitude was one of those Pinterest board words people slap on pictures of sunsets to sound profound. 🙄 But one sleepless night, after scrolling through way too many Reddit threads about career regrets (bad idea, by the way), I decided I was going to have to give it a try.

The logic was simple, after all: when you focus on what you’re thankful for, your brain has less bandwidth to spiral into worry mode. It sounded… nice? Sceptical me wasn’t sold, but desperate me was like, What’s the worst that could happen?

My (Wobbly) Gratitude Experiment

The next morning, I grabbed an old notebook, poured a cup of coffee (because a girl has to have priorities), and sat down to write three things I was grateful for. Easy, right?

Not exactly. My brain was so used to cataloguing stress that it couldn’t think of anything even remotely positive. After staring at the page for ten minutes, I finally came up with:

  1. Coffee (obviously).

  2. My dog, Biscuit, both my therapist and my shadow.

  3. That one time last week when the grocery store had avocados on sale.

Earth-shattering stuff, I know. But here’s the thing: it felt good to write those down. Not amazing, not life-changing—but good. It was like giving my brain a tiny break from its regularly scheduled programming of “What If Everything goes horribly WRONG?”

How Gratitude Became My Anxiety Buffer

As the days went on, I kept up the gratitude practice, jotting down three things every morning. Some days were easier than others. (Pro tip: if you ever try this, it’s totally okay to repeat “coffee” as many times as necessary.) But gradually, I started noticing a shift.

For example, when my anxiety would flare up—like the time I checked my bank account and realised I’d forgotten to cancel a subscription AGAIN—I’d stop and think, Okay, what’s one thing that’s going right? Sometimes it was small, like, “At least I’m not dealing with Karen from HR anymore.” Other times, it was bigger, like, “I have people in my life who support me, even when I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

It didn’t erase the anxiety, but it gave me a little breathing room. And in those moments, I felt just the tiniest bit less panicked—and a little more hopeful.

Science-backed Stuff (because I do NOT believe everything I hear)

Because I’m me and I love overthinking everything, I started researching why gratitude might actually work. Turns out, there’s legit science behind it. Practising gratitude activates the part of your brain responsible for positive emotions and can even lower cortisol (aka the stress hormone). (1) (2)

I also learned that gratitude and anxiety can’t really coexist. It’s like trying to listen to two songs at once—your brain will pick one track to focus on, and gratitude tends to drown out the panic. Or, at least, it turns the volume down a notch.

Who knew my cheesy little notebook entries were rewiring my brain?

The Unexpected Perks of Gratitude

Okay, here’s where things got weird (in a good way). As I kept up my gratitude habit, I noticed some surprising side effects:

  1. I stopped catastrophising as much. Instead of assuming every minor setback was a sign I’d end up as a bag lady, I started looking for the silver linings. Missed a deadline? Great, more time to do it right. Stubbed my toe? Okay, that one still sucked, but you get the idea.

  2. I became more present. I used to spend 90% of my day stuck in “what if” mode. Gratitude pulled me back into the here and now, even if just for a few minutes at a time.

  3. I started sleeping better. Not every night—let’s be real—but enough that I felt like a semi-functioning human again. Apparently, ending the day with a gratitude list helps your brain chill out before bed. Who knew?

Gratitude Isn’t a Magic Cure (But It Helps)

I’m not going to lie and say gratitude fixed everything. I still wake up some mornings feeling like I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life. I still overthink, stress out, and occasionally cry into a bag of chips. (Salt and vinegar, for those wondering.) But the difference is, those moments don’t feel as overwhelming anymore.

Gratitude hasn’t made my problems disappear, but it’s given me a tool to deal with them. It’s like having a flashlight when you’re wandering through a dark forest. Sure, you’re still in the forest, but at least you can see where you’re going.

Where I’m At Now

Fast forward to today, four coaching sessions behind me and packing for my From Troubled to Triumphant Life Transition retreat: I’m still figuring out my next move, still nervous about the future—but also, for the first time in years, I’m excited. And when the anxiety starts creeping in, I remind myself to pause and look for the good stuff. Even if it’s just coffee and avocados.

So if you’re in the middle of a big life change and your brain won’t stop spinning worst-case scenarios, try this gratitude thing. Start small. Write it down. Say it out loud. Heck, yell it into the void if that helps.

And remember: no matter how messy or uncertain life feels, there’s always something worth appreciating—even if it’s just the fact that avocados were on sale last week. 🥑

Research

Several scientific studies have demonstrated the link between gratitude and reduced anxiety symptoms that Shirley mentions above:

  1. A meta-analysis of 64 randomised clinical trials found that patients who underwent gratitude interventions experienced a 7.76% reduction in anxiety scores compared to control groups, as measured by the Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD-7) scale (The effects of gratitude interventions: a systematic review and meta-analysis Geyze Diniz, Ligia Korkes, Luca Schiliró Tristão PMCID: PMC10393216 PMID: 37585888.)

  2. Research by McCraty and colleagues showed that participants who felt grateful had a marked reduction in cortisol levels, the stress hormone, leading to better cardiac functioning and increased resilience to emotional setbacks. (McCraty, R., & Childre, D. (2004). The grateful heart: The psychophysiology of appreciation. In R. A. Emmons & M. E. McCullough (Eds.), Series in affective science. The psychology of gratitude (pp. 230–255). New York, NY: Oxford University Press.)

  3. More Research and References

Practising gratitude can help reduce anxiety symptoms through various physiological and psychological mechanisms, including regulating stress hormones, modulating brain activity, and shifting focus to positive aspects of life.

Finalement

So, there you have it—gratitude won’t pay your bills or magically map out your future, but it might just keep you from having a full-blown meltdown while you figure things out. Think of it as emotional duct tape: not perfect, but surprisingly effective even if you need to go write “coffee” in your gratitude journal at least three times a day. 😉

Imagine having a survival toolkit ready next time you’re hit by a life-shattering transition. When you subscribe to my Savoir Vivre Vignettes newsletter, you get FREE access to my How to Survive a Life Quake 7-part online course (valued at €79). This isn’t just another online course; it’s a heartfelt made-with-love guide packed with tools to help you face and thrive through life’s transitions with resilience. I’d love for you to join our community!

Author Bio: Dr Margaretha Montagu – described as a “game changer”, “gifted healer”, “guiding light” and “life-enriching author” – is an experienced medical doctor, a certified NLP practitioner, a medical hypnotherapist, an equine-assisted psychotherapist (EAGALAcertified) and a transformational retreat leader who guides her clients through life transitions – virtually, or with the assistance of her Friesian and Falabella horses, at their home in the southwest of France.

Hit the pause button and regain your footing during a From Troubled to Triumphant: Find Solid Ground during Life Quakes Retreat. Imagine walking a peaceful stretch of the Camino de Santiago, where every step helps untangle the mental clutter or spending time with gentle Friesian horses who teach you the art of mindfulness. These retreats blend reflection and relaxation in a way that feels more like an exciting adventure than hard work. Whether you choose to make a change or are forced to, this retreat offers the perfect blend of peace, perspective, and playful exploration to help you rise from troubled to triumphant!

Posted on

Camino de Santiago Hiking Adventures

Confessions from the Camino: Blisters, Bliss, and Big Life Epiphanies

Written by Nina S. a proud Empty-Nester who attended a From Troubled to Triumphant: Find Solid Ground during a Life Quake retreat in the sun-blessed southwest of France

#LifeQuake Series

I knew I was in trouble when my left ankle, safely encased in a brand new hiking boot started whispering “I hate you!” by mile three. Okay, it wasn’t literally whispering, but it might as well have been, considering the blister situation brewing on my heel. Welcome to my first day walking the Camino de Santiago—where dreams of spiritual enlightenment collide head-on with the harsh reality of unbroken shoes.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind.

Why the Heck I Decided to Do This

So, picture this: me, a woman in her 50s, sitting in my kitchen with a cup of tea, staring down the uneven barrel of a life transition. Kids? Grown and out of the house (well, mostly—one boomerangs back when she needs help with her laundry). Career? Let’s just say I wasn’t feeling the love. Relationship? Yeah… let’s not open that Pandora’s box just yet.

I wanted inspiration, clarity, purpose, some kind of sign that the next chapter wasn’t going to involve me knitting in a recliner while binge-watching Murder, She Wrote reruns. (No offence, Jessica Fletcher, but I need more action in my life.)

That’s when I stumbled upon an article about a retreat walking a section of the Camino de Santiago, a centuries-old pilgrimage that winds through the southwest of France on it’s way to Spain. The photos looked like postcards: sunflower fields, charming stone villages, and people beaming with the kind of joy that comes from surviving walking 500 miles with a backpack that’s either too heavy or too small.

I thought, If they can do it, so can I. Plus, walking sounded simple. You just put one foot in front of the other, right? Spoiler alert: it’s not that simple.

Day One: The Blister Chronicles

Fast forward to me, sweating my way up a gentle incline (read: Mount Everest in disguise) on my first day. The romantic visions I had of strolling through quaint villages? Replaced by the grim reality of cursing every pebble on the path.

By lunchtime, I had my first blister. By dinnertime, I had named it Fred and was seriously considering amputating my foot. Fred was mean, persistent, and not shy about demanding attention with every step. But here’s the thing about the Camino: when you’re surrounded by fellow pilgrims, everyone’s in the same boat—or rather, on the same path.

At one point, I stopped to patch Fred up, and a fellow walker—an energetic Italian woman named Sofia—offered me her blister cream. “The Camino gives you what you need,” she said with a wink, handing me the tiny tube.

I wasn’t sure if it was divine intervention or just good timing, but the gesture made me tear up a little.

The People You Meet (and the Snacks You Steal)

Walking for hours a day gives you plenty of time to think—or to eavesdrop on conversations, which is what I did whenever I caught up to other pilgrims. (What? Don’t judge me; the Camino can get lonely!) I overheard deep discussions about philosophy, hilarious debates about which albergue had the best wine, and one particularly spirited argument about whether or not snoring should be a criminal offence in shared dorms.

Then there were the snacks. Let me just say, I became a bit of a Camino snack ninja. If someone brought out a bag of trail mix, I’d conveniently slow down to “enjoy the view” until I was close enough to sneak a handful. Hey, walking burns a lot of calories!

But the real magic came from the moments of connection. Like when I bonded with a retired teacher from Canada over our shared love of cheesy rom-coms. Or when a young guy from Germany told me he was walking to figure out what to do after quitting his tech job. His honesty floored me, and it made me wonder if maybe I needed to ask myself some hard questions too.

Lessons from the Trail (and the Time I Almost Quit)

The third day nearly broke me. My legs felt like lead, the rain wouldn’t stop, and Fred (remember the blister?) had blossomed into a blister barnacle. I wanted to quit. I even googled “nearest taxi service” during a water break.

But then I looked up and saw a signpost with the word Spain and an arrow pointing the way. It hit me: this wasn’t about getting there as fast as possible. It wasn’t about proving anything to anyone. It was about the journey itself. (Yes, I know that sounds like a line from a self-help book, but stay with me.)

I put my phone away and kept walking.

That day, I crossed paths with a French woman in her 60s who’d been walking the Camino for two months. TWO MONTHS. She told me she started because she wanted to “find her joy again.” And you know what? She was the happiest person I’d met on the trail.

Her story reminded me that it’s okay to feel lost. It’s okay to not have everything figured out. Sometimes, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if your feet are covered in Band-Aids.

The Finish Line (and What Came After)

When I finally reached the end, I expected fireworks, a choir of angels, or at least someone handing out free beers. Instead, I got a quiet sense of peace that crept over me as I stood in the shadow of an ancient oak tree.

It didn’t magically solve all my problems. My job was still waiting for me, my relationships still needed work, and my life still had plenty of question marks. But I felt lighter, more open, and—dare I say it—a little braver.

The Camino didn’t fix me. It didn’t hand me a roadmap for the rest of my life. But it reminded me that I’m capable of more than I think. And sometimes, this time, that’s enough.

So, if you’re sitting in your kitchen with a cup of tea, wondering who you are now and what’s next, maybe the answers aren’t clear right now. But trust me, at least some of the answers are out there on the Camino—waiting for you to take the first step.

Don’t forget the blister cream. And more snacks than you think you’ll ever need.

Find out more.

Hit the pause button and regain your footing during a From Troubled to Triumphant: Find Solid Ground during Life Quakes Retreat. Imagine walking a peaceful stretch of the Camino de Santiago, where every step helps untangle the mental clutter, or spending time with gentle Friesian horses who teach you the art of mindfulness. These retreats blend reflection and relaxation in a way that feels more like an exciting adventure than hard work. Whether you’ve chosen to make a change, or are forced to, this retreat offers the perfect blend of peace, perspective, and playful exploration to help you rise from troubled to triumphant!

Imagine having a survival toolkit ready next time you’re hit by a life-shattering transition. When you subscribe to my Savoir Vivre Vignettes newsletter, you get FREE access to my How to Survive a Life Quake 7-part online course (valued at €79). This isn’t just another online course; it’s a heartfelt made-with-love guide packed with tools to help you face and thrive through life’s transitions with resilience. I’d love for you to join our community!

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