The Great Retreat Debate: Best Retreat- Home or Hotel?

Quick Summary

Choosing your best retreat: a hotel/resort retreat or a home-hosted retreat? Hotels offer polished professionalism, extensive amenities, and worry-free logistics, while home retreats provide intimate connections, personalised attention, home-cooked meals, and authentic experiences at a fraction of the cost. Your choice depends on whether you prioritise luxury convenience or meaningful connection and customisation.

Introduction

Picture this: You’re standing at a crossroads, credit card in one hand, soul yearning for rest and a reset in the other. On your left, a glossy brochure promises a luxury retreat at a five-star resort with infinity pools and cucumber water. On your right, an invitation to a cosy farmhouse retreat where the facilitator makes her own sourdough and knows your name.

Which path leads to deeper healing? Which investment serves your soul better than your Instagram feed?

The retreat industry has exploded in recent years, offering everything from silent meditation marathons in Bali to manifestation workshops in Malibu mansions. But beneath the marketing glitter lies a fundamental question that most people never think to ask: Does the setting actually matter?

Let me tell you about Nina Pellitier, and how two very different retreat experiences taught her (and me) everything we needed to know about the power of place in personal growth.

Nina’s Tale of Two Retreats

Nina pushed through the revolving glass doors of the Grand Vista Resort, her designer weekend bag rolling behind her on marble floors so polished they could have doubled as mirrors. The lobby hummed with efficient activity—uniformed staff gliding between guests, the gentle ping of elevator arrivals, and the soft jazz that seemed to emanate from the very walls themselves.

“Welcome to your Mindful Leadership Intensive,” chirped the woman behind the mahogany reception desk, her smile as perfectly arranged as the orchids flanking her computer. Nina accepted her room key—a sleek black card in a leather folder—and followed the bellhop’s crisp instructions to the East Wing.

Her room was everything the website had promised: Egyptian cotton sheets in pristine white, a view of manicured grounds through floor-to-ceiling windows, and a bathroom larger than her first apartment. She unpacked her carefully curated retreat wardrobe (athleisure that cost more than most people’s monthly grocery budget) and headed down to the orientation session.

The conference room buzzed with forty-three other high-achievers, each clutching branded water bottles and leather portfolios. Nina found herself seated between a pharmaceutical executive from Chicago and a tech startup founder who kept checking her Apple Watch. The facilitator, impressive in his pressed khakis and wireless headset, launched into a PowerPoint presentation about “Disrupting Your Inner CEO.”

For three days, Nina dutifully attended sessions in rooms that could have housed small weddings. She ate meals from gleaming buffet stations where the labels read like a United Nations summit: “Quinoa Fusion Bowl,” “Mediterranean Wrap Station,” “Asian-Inspired Soup Bar.” The food was attractive, abundant, and utterly forgettable—the kind of meal designed to offend nobody and delight nobody in equal measure.

During breaks, she networked by the infinity pool, collecting business cards. The conversations felt familiar: quarterly projections, market disruption, the challenge of work-life balance. It was her regular Tuesday, just with better lighting and more expensive coffee.

Nina left the Grand Vista feeling… fine. She’d learned some useful frameworks, made some potentially valuable connections, and gotten a decent tan. Her Instagram stories from the retreat garnered impressive likes. But driving home, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d attended a very expensive conference rather than experienced any actual rest or reset.

Six months later, just south of Montpellier, Nina found herself pulling into the gravel driveway of what could only be described as a fairy-tale cottage gone slightly wild. Lavender bushes heavy with purple blooms brushed against her car windows, releasing their perfume into the warm evening air. A hand-painted sign reading “Bienvenue” leaned against a stone wall covered in climbing roses.

The front door opened before she could knock, revealing a woman with flour-dusted hands and the kind of genuine smile that crinkles the corners of your eyes. “Nina! You made it! I’m Marie, and you’re just in time for dinner prep. Hope you don’t mind getting your hands dirty.”

The kitchen was chaos in the most beautiful way: copper pots bubbling on an ancient stove, the wooden table scattered with just-picked herbs, and the smell of something that could only be described as “home” filling every corner. Nina found herself handed an apron and a knife, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with five other women as they chopped vegetables for what Marie called “tonight’s retetouille adventure.”

The conversation flowed as naturally as the wine Marie kept topping up in their glasses. There was Sarah, recently divorced and learning to cook for one. Emma, a nurse who hadn’t taken a vacation in three years. Lily, whose teenager had just left for university, was her wondering who she was beyond “Mom.” These weren’t networking opportunities; these were humans, beautifully messy and real.

They ate at a long wooden table that wobbled slightly, under string lights that cast everything in a golden glow. The ratatouille they’d prepared together tasted like it had captured sunshine itself—earthy, rich, and somehow infused with the laughter that had seasoned its preparation. Nina found herself reaching for seconds, then thirds, not because she was particularly hungry, but because the act of eating felt celebratory rather than merely necessary.

That first night, she slept in a room with mismatched vintage furniture and windows that actually opened to let in the sound of crickets and the distant bleating of goats. No air conditioning hummed; no ice machine clanked down the hallway. Just silence, punctuated by the gentle sounds of the countryside night.

The next morning began not with a wake-up call, but with the aroma of fresh bread drifting up the stairs. Nina padded downstairs barefoot to find Marie pulling golden loaves from the oven, steam rising like incense in the morning light. Coffee came in mismatched mugs, each with its own story, and breakfast was eaten in the garden while dew still clung to the spider webs strung between the tomato plants.

There were no PowerPoint presentations, no branded materials, no scheduled networking breaks. Instead, there were conversations that meandered like the walking paths they explored, deep and winding discussions about purpose, fear, dreams deferred, and the courage to begin again. When tears came—and they did, for all of them at various points—there were real hugs, not professional shoulder pats. When breakthroughs happened, they were celebrated with impromptu toasts and group hugs that lasted as long as they needed to.

Nina left that cottage retreat with dirt under her fingernails, Marie’s recipe for lavender shortbread tucked into her suitcase, and five new friendships that felt like they’d been years in the making. More importantly, she left with something she’d been seeking for years without knowing it: a sense of coming home to herself.

The Hidden Psychology of Retreat Settings

Nina’s contrasting experiences illuminate something profound about how the environment shapes transformation. It’s not just about thread count or Michelin stars—it’s about what psychologists call “psychological safety” and anthropologists recognise as “liminal space.”

The Intimacy Factor

When you gather three people in someone’s living room instead of twenty in a conference centre, magic happens. Social psychology research shows that group cohesion increases exponentially as group size decreases. In smaller settings, people can’t hide behind professional personas or disappear into the crowd. Vulnerability becomes not just possible, but inevitable.

Home retreats naturally create what researchers call “optimal group size” for meaningful connection—typically between 3-5 participants. Everyone gets heard, everyone matters, and the social dynamics shift from networking to nurturing.

The Authenticity of Imperfection

Hotel retreats excel at eliminating variables—consistent temperature, predictable meals, standardised accommodations. But transformation often happens in the gaps, the imperfections, the unexpected moments. When the soufflé falls, when it rains during the planned outdoor session, when someone’s story makes everyone cry into their homemade soup—these aren’t bugs in the system, they’re features.

The Japanese have a concept called wabi-sabi—finding beauty in imperfection. Home retreats embody this philosophy naturally. The slightly burned bread becomes a lesson in self-forgiveness. The mismatched chairs around the dinner table become a metaphor for how our differences create beautiful harmony.

The Neuroscience of “Home”

Our brains are wired to respond differently to domestic spaces versus institutional ones. Home environments trigger what neuroscientists call the “tend-and-befriend” response—the biological system that promotes connection, empathy, and healing. Hotel environments, however pleasant, often activate subtle stress responses associated with unfamiliar territory and performance expectations.

When you’re chopping vegetables for the group dinner, your nervous system receives completely different signals than when you’re selecting from a buffet line. One says, “I belong here, I contribute to this community.” The other says, “I am a consumer of services.”

The Economics of Transformation

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: money. High-end retreat centres can cost thousands of dollars, creating an unfortunate reality where transformational experiences become luxury goods accessible only to the already privileged. This isn’t just unfair—it’s counterproductive.

When people invest reasonable amounts in their growth rather than taking out loans or depleting savings, they approach the experience with curiosity rather than desperation. They’re not carrying the additional stress of financial strain, which can actually impede the very breakthroughs they’re seeking.

Home retreats typically cost 40-60% less than resort equivalents, not because they offer less value, but because they eliminate massive overhead costs: hotel markups, resort fees, commercial kitchen requirements, and institutional staffing. This affordability paradoxically increases their transformational power by removing financial pressure from the equation.

The Gift of Ordinary Magic

Perhaps most importantly, home retreats normalise transformation. They demonstrate that profound change doesn’t require exotic locations or expensive facilitation. It can happen around a kitchen table, during a walk through someone’s garden, or while washing dishes together after dinner.

This normalisation is crucial because sustainable transformation happens in ordinary moments, not just peak experiences. When people learn to access wisdom and connection in domestic settings, they’re more likely to maintain those practices once they return to their regular lives.

Making Your Choice: A Framework for Decision

So how do you choose? Here’s a framework based on honest self-assessment:

Choose a Hotel/Resort Retreat If:

You genuinely need the luxury and pampering as part of your healing process
You’re networking-motivated and want to connect with larger groups
You prefer structured, professionally managed experiences
You have specific accessibility needs best met by commercial facilities
Budget is not a primary concern
You’re seeking escape from domestic responsibilities

Choose a Home Retreat If:

You crave authentic connection over professional networking
You’re budget-conscious but don’t want to sacrifice quality
You learn better in intimate, personalised settings
You’re drawn to experiential learning (cooking, gardening, crafting)
You want to normalise the transformation rather than exoticise it
You’re seeking a community that extends beyond the retreat experience

Red Flags to Avoid in Either Setting:

Facilitators who promise unrealistic outcomes
Programs that shame participants for past choices
Retreats that isolate you from support systems
Any setting that feels more focused on image than substance
Experiences that require you to go into debt

The Future of Meaningful Retreat Experiences

The retreat industry is evolving, and the most successful programs are those that prioritise authentic connection over Instagram moments. Home-based and small-scale retreat experiences are growing rapidly because they address what people actually need: genuine human connection, personalised attention, and sustainable practices they can maintain long after the retreat ends.

This doesn’t mean luxury retreats don’t have their place. Some people genuinely need the complete escape that only a full-service resort can provide. Others require the credibility and structure that come with professional facilities. The key is honest self-assessment about what will actually serve your growth versus what looks impressive on social media.

The most profound transformations often happen not in perfected environments, but in spaces where we can be perfectly imperfect—where our vulnerabilities are welcomed, our stories are witnessed, and our growth is celebrated by people who’ve become genuine friends rather than fellow consumers.

Frequently Asked Best Retreat Questions

Q: Are home retreats less professional or credible than hotel-based ones? A: Not at all. The setting doesn’t determine the quality of facilitation or content. Many highly credentialed facilitators choose home settings specifically because they allow for more personalised, effective work. Look at the facilitator’s experience, approach, and testimonials rather than the thread count of the sheets.

Q: What about safety and insurance issues with home retreats? A: Reputable home retreat hosts carry appropriate insurance and follow safety protocols. Ask about their insurance coverage, emergency procedures, and any relevant certifications. Most home retreat hosts are more attentive to safety precisely because they’re personally liable and genuinely care about their home.

Q: How do I know if a home retreat will be too intense or intimate for my comfort level? A: Good home retreat facilitators will discuss group dynamics, privacy expectations, and comfort levels during the application or consultation process. Don’t hesitate to ask specific questions about group size, sleeping arrangements, participation expectations, and how they handle different comfort levels with sharing.

Q: Can home retreats accommodate dietary restrictions and accessibility needs? A: Many can, often more flexibly than hotels, since meals are prepared specifically for the group. However, complex medical needs or significant mobility issues might be better served by commercial facilities. Always discuss your specific needs upfront—good hosts will be honest about what they can and cannot accommodate.

Q: How do I find legitimate home retreats versus potentially sketchy situations? A: Look for hosts with verifiable credentials, detailed websites with clear policies, testimonials from past participants, and transparent communication. Trust your instincts—if something feels off during initial communications, it probably is.

Coming Home to Yourself

Nina’s story reminds us that transformation isn’t a product to be consumed—it’s an experience to be lived. Whether that happens beside an infinity pool or around a farmhouse table matters less than whether the experience honours your authentic self and creates space for genuine growth.

The best retreat is the one that doesn’t just change you for a weekend, but changes how you show up in your ordinary life. It’s the one where you learn that wisdom doesn’t require expensive settings, that connection doesn’t need professional facilitation, and that coming home to yourself can happen anywhere you feel truly welcomed.

Sometimes the most profound journeys begin not with a passport or a credit card, but with the simple courage to show up authentically wherever you are.

Ready for your own transformative retreat experience? Join me for a stress-relief walking retreat along the ancient Camino de Santiago pilgrimage path near my little farmhouse in the southwest of France. We’ll explore the healing power of slow travel, mindful walking, and authentic connection while savouring home-cooked meals made from local ingredients. Limited to just 3 participants to ensure personal attention. Learn more about our upcoming Camino-inspired retreats and discover how transformation happens one mindful step at a time.

10 Powerful Life Lessons Learned While Walking the Camino de Santiago – a free guide filled with 10 not just “quaint anecdotes” or Instagram-worthy moments (though there are plenty of those) but real transformations from real people who walked the same insight-giving trail you might want to walk one day – Subscribe to my monthly newsletter to Download the Guide

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.

12/02/202511/02/2025

Why Manifestation Works for Some But Not for You

Manifestation a Man in his 50s walking the Camino de Santiago

The Brutal Truth About Energy and Identity

Introduction

Have you ever followed the “just believe and receive” mantra only to find yourself disappointed and empty-handed?

I have spent years delving deep into the realms of energy and identity to uncover why some people experience success through manifestation while others struggle despite their best efforts. In this post, I challenge the oversimplified message that positive thinking alone can produce miracles. Instead, I reveal how your subconscious beliefs and hidden identity either amplify your ability to manifest or block it entirely.

My journey of research and personal transformation has shown me that real change comes not from wishful thinking, but from a deep inner alignment of energy and identity—a process that requires honesty, hard work, and a willingness to transform from the inside out.

The Myth of “Just Believe and Receive”

The popular notion of “just believe and receive” is a myth that oversimplifies the intricate process of manifestation. This approach suggests that by merely uttering positive affirmations, one can overcome obstacles and attract success. However, this idea fails to account for the deep-seated beliefs stored in your subconscious. Your inner identity—the story you tell yourself about who you are—plays a critical role in shaping your energy, which in turn influences your external reality. Imagine planting a seed in a garden: if you water it with doubt and negative thoughts, the seed will wither rather than grow.

The simple act of believing is insufficient if your inner soil is barren or toxic. Research in psychology, such as John Bargh’s work on automaticity, has shown that the majority of our decisions are influenced by our subconscious mind. (1) This means that even if you consciously affirm your worthiness, hidden beliefs like “I am not enough” can undermine your efforts and block your progress. The conflict between your conscious desires and your subconscious programming is why many people never see the results they expect, and it highlights the need for a deeper, more honest exploration of your inner world.

The Brutal Truth About Manifestation

Manifestation is not magic. It is not a genie in a bottle. It requires more than positive thoughts. It needs your energy and inner identity to align with your goals. Many people block their own success because they hold obstructive beliefs. When your mind tells you “I am not enough,” nothing you do can break that spell.

Studies show that our subconscious mind runs the show. It quietly drives our actions while we are unaware. When deep-seated beliefs run negative, they sabotage every effort you make. This is why the “just believe” mantra falls flat for many. It ignores the real work of changing who you are inside.

The Role of Energy in Manifestation

Energy is not merely a trendy buzzword; it is the very fuel that drives your actions and thoughts. When you speak of energy, think of it as the gasoline that powers a car. No matter how fine-tuned your engine is or how sleek your vehicle appears, without fuel it remains immobile. In the context of manifestation, your thoughts and feelings create energy, and if that energy is low or misaligned, your ability to attract positive outcomes is severely hampered. High energy—generated from feelings of excitement, hope, and self-worth—acts as a magnet, drawing opportunities and success toward you.

On the other hand, when you are overwhelmed by fear, self-doubt, or feelings of unworthiness, your energy diminishes, effectively stalling your progress. Studies on emotional regulation confirm that positive emotions boost your performance and decision-making capabilities, which are critical for manifesting your goals. To increase your energy, consider starting your day with a mindful ritual such as standing in front of a mirror, smiling, and affirming that “I am enough.” This may seem trivial, but it is a powerful way to kick-start your day with the right mindset and energy. When your energy is high, it resonates with your inner desires and supports the manifestation of your dreams.

Identity: The Secret Ingredient

Your identity is the blueprint that shapes every action you take and every decision you make. It is the internal narrative that informs how you view yourself and your place in the world. If you harbour beliefs that you are unworthy or incapable of success, you will naturally take actions that confirm those beliefs.

Think of your identity as a pair of tinted glasses through which you view your entire reality. If the tint is dark and full of negativity, every opportunity appears shrouded in obstacles. Conversely, if you cultivate a positive and empowering identity, your vision of the world becomes clear and filled with possibility. Carol Dweck’s research (2) on mindset has shown that individuals with a growth mindset—those who believe they can learn, evolve, and overcome challenges—tend to achieve more and bounce back from setbacks more easily than those with a fixed mindset. Changing your identity is not a trivial task; it requires you to challenge and rewrite the internal narrative that has been holding you back. It means confronting long-held beliefs and replacing them with empowering truths that reflect the person you truly wish to become.

Limiting beliefs act like invisible chains that restrict your ability to manifest your dreams. These beliefs, often rooted in past experiences or negative programming from childhood, continuously whisper that you are not good enough, smart enough, or deserving of success. They are not just fleeting thoughts but deeply ingrained programs that operate beneath your conscious awareness, dictating your behaviours and responses.

To break free from these chains, you must first acknowledge their existence.

Start by writing down the recurring negative thoughts that paralyze you or make you hesitate to seize opportunities.

Then, challenge the validity of these beliefs by asking yourself, “Is this really true?” More often than not, you will discover that these beliefs are not based on facts but on misconceptions or past disappointments.

Finally, replace these limiting thoughts with empowering statements that affirm your worth and capability. For instance, change “I can’t do this” into “I can learn and grow every day.” Although this process requires time and consistent effort, every step you take towards reprogramming your subconscious mind helps dismantle the barriers to your success.

Elite-Level Mindset Shifts

True transformation demands elite-level mindset shifts that go beyond simple affirmations. These shifts require you to upgrade your entire approach to life by adopting practices that nurture both your inner and outer worlds. One of the most critical shifts is embracing a growth mindset, as advocated by Carol Dweck.

By viewing challenges as opportunities for learning rather than insurmountable obstacles, you open yourself up to continuous improvement. This perspective allows you to see every setback as a stepping stone rather than a failure. Additionally, regular practices like meditation, affirmations, and journaling play a pivotal role in reinforcing these new beliefs. Meditation, in particular, helps clear the clutter of negative thoughts, allowing you to observe your inner dialogue without judgment. This practice creates the mental space needed to rewire your thought patterns.

Daily affirmations, spoken with conviction, serve as a constant reminder of your newfound worth and power.

Journaling, on the other hand, provides you with a tangible record of your progress, helping you track patterns and recognize your growth over time. Each of these practices reinforces the other, creating a positive feedback loop that gradually transforms your mindset and sets the stage for lasting change.

Final Thoughts

It is essential to understand that true manifestation is not a quick fix, nor is it a process that can be completed overnight.

The journey of transforming your energy and identity is akin to climbing a mountain; each step may be small, and you might stumble along the way, but every step you take brings you closer to the summit. There are no shortcuts in this journey, and every breakthrough requires a willingness to face your inner demons and commit to the long road of personal growth.

The process is gradual, and the rewards come to those who persist.

Every day that you invest in realigning your inner beliefs and raising your energy, you lay the foundation for a more empowered future. Your commitment to this work not only changes your external reality but also instils a profound sense of confidence and self-worth that permeates every aspect of your life.

To help you navigate this challenging yet rewarding journey, here is a clear and actionable roadmap that you can follow:

First, acknowledge that the simplistic notion of “just believe and receive” is a myth. Accept that true manifestation requires a deep commitment to inner work.

Next, focus on understanding and nurturing your energy by incorporating practices that raise your vibrational state, such as meditation, affirmations, and physical exercise. As you work on your energy, take the time to redefine your identity by examining the narrative you have constructed about yourself. Identify the limiting beliefs that have been holding you back, and commit to replacing them with empowering truths that reflect your inherent worth and potential.

Implement daily practices that reinforce these new beliefs, and make a conscious effort to surround yourself with positive influences—people, books, and communities that uplift and support your journey.

Finally, remember that the journey of transformation is ongoing. Embrace each small victory along the way, and do not be discouraged by setbacks. Every step, no matter how small, is a testament to your commitment to change and a building block towards the life you envision.

These practical steps, though simple in execution, have the power to shift your inner landscape and, by extension, your external reality.

In summary, the path to successful manifestation is paved with honest self-reflection, persistent inner work, and a commitment to reshaping your identity. It requires you to confront and dismantle the limiting beliefs that have held you back, to invest in practices that raise your energy, and to embrace a mindset that sees challenges as opportunities for growth.

From Troubled to Triumphant Transformational Retreats

If you feel the call to make a real change in your life and are ready to commit to a journey of profound inner transformation, I invite you to join my From Troubled to Triumphant transformational retreats. These retreats are designed for you if you are ready to dig deep into your identity, to uncover and challenge the hidden beliefs that hold you back, and to emerge with a renewed sense of purpose and direction. At these immersive retreats, you will explore practical tools and techniques for raising your energy, rewriting your internal narrative, and creating a sustainable path toward success and fulfilment.

During the retreat, you will learn to recognise and dismantle the limiting beliefs that have shaped your reality, and you will gain access to strategies that empower you to take inspired action every day. These experiences are not just theoretical; they are designed to produce real, measurable change. The supportive environment will accelerate your journey, providing both accountability and inspiration.

The retreat experience is a chance to step away from the everyday distractions that sap your energy and hinder your growth. It is a dedicated time for introspection, healing, and rebuilding your identity from the ground up. You will return to your life equipped with a renewed sense of clarity and the practical tools necessary to maintain your transformation long after the retreat is over. This is your opportunity to break free from old limitations and create the life you have always envisioned—a life that is not defined by past beliefs, but by the limitless potential of your true self.

When you are aligned with your true identity, every action you take becomes a step toward a more abundant and fulfilling future. The process requires dedication, courage, and a willingness to invest in yourself fully.

I promise you, the rewards are immense.

In closing, I challenge you to let go of the simplistic idea that merely believing is enough. Understand that true manifestation comes from a profound alignment of your energy and your identity—a journey that demands daily commitment and the courage to face your inner truth. Your hidden beliefs have the power to either block your progress or propel you toward the life you desire. Choose to rewrite your story, raise your energy, and embrace the process of transformation. The path is clear, and the destination is a life filled with purpose, success, and unwavering self-worth.

Take the step today to invest in yourself by joining my Troubled to Triumphant transformational retreats, where you will find the guidance, support, and practical tools necessary to reshape your inner world and manifest the reality you deserve. Together, we will challenge conventional thinking, break through the barriers of limiting beliefs, and build a future that reflects the power and potential of your true self. Embrace this opportunity, commit to the journey, and watch as your life transforms from troubled to triumphant.

(1) John A. Bargh, “The Unbearable Automaticity of Being,” American Psychologist 54, no. 7 (1999): 462–479.

(2) Carol S. Dweck, Mindset: The New Psychology of Success (New York: Random House, 2006).

Ready to start again, stronger than ever before? This quiz will help you find out. It is not just about measuring where you are right now; it’s about shining a light on the areas of your life that feel meaningful, as well as those that might need attention. It’s an opportunity to reflect, recalibrate, and take steps toward a life that’s not only successful but profoundly fulfilling. Take The Quiz

“I am an experienced medical doctor – MBChB, MRCGP, NLP master pract cert, Transformational Life Coach (dip.) Life Story Coach (cert.) Stress Counselling (cert.) Med Hypnotherapy (dip.) and EAGALA (cert.) I may have an impressive number of letters after my name, and more than three decades of professional experience, but what qualifies me to excel at what I do is my intuitive understanding of my clients’ difficulties and my extensive personal experience of managing major life changes using strategies I developed over many years.” Dr M Montagu

Hit the pause button and regain your footing during a From Troubled to Triumphant 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. 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!

20/01/202520/01/2025

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.

In a world that feels increasingly unstable — politically, economically, emotionally — what will you do when the rug is pulled out from under you? That’s why I created Survive the Storm — a 7-part online course designed to be a lifeline during a life quake. This is your personal survival toolkit for uncertain times — lovingly crafted and packed with practical tools, emotional support, and soul-nourishing insights to help you stay grounded, resilient, and resourceful when everything around you feels like it’s falling apart. Enrol in How to Survive the Storm Protocol, with or without additional mentoring.

04/12/202404/12/2024

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

24/11/202424/11/2024

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.”

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.

22/11/202422/11/2024

Understanding Empathy Burnout and How to Recognise It in Yourself

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.

21/11/202421/11/2024

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:

Coffee (obviously).

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

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:

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.

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.

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:

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.)

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.)

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. 😉

17/11/202422/10/2025

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 Camino de Santiago CrossRoads 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.

https://margarethamontagu.com/camino-de-santiago-crossroads-retreat/

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.

01/04/202315/10/2025

How to figure out your purpose in life in 5 minutes

This post was inspired by this “How to figure out your purpose in life” TED talk by Adam Leipzig that has 232 000 likes on Youtube, and for very good reason too – it is literally life-changing (watch below).

I have spent the last week creating a DIY course about identifying one’s life purpose.

Why? Because I clearly do not have enough to do, leading online protocols, hosting onsite Camino de Santiago walking retreats here in the southwest of France, feeding my cats and horses at relatively regular hours, keeping the house standing, the garden accessible and the paddocks securely fenced, and writing articles, newsletters and blog posts in the minutes during the one or two waking hours that are left.

Actually, I created this online course about identifying your life purpose because, since the pandemic, my retreat guests seem to be obsessed with it.

As in, “I have been searching for my life’s purpose my whole life long! I honestly don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve read all the books, attended all the seminars, completed all the online courses (Really? You completed all the courses?) had counselling, had coaching, had my palm read…and I still don’t know!”

Why do you want to know what your life purpose is?

Because it significantly and dramatically lowers your stress levels.

What This Article Is About (In 30 Seconds)

Picture this: you’re standing at life’s most overwhelming junction—bills unpaid, emails unanswered, dreams deferred—wondering if you’ve accidentally enrolled in someone else’s existence. Now imagine having an internal compass so reliable that even when chaos reigns, you know exactly which direction matters. That’s what understanding your life purpose does for stress. This isn’t about finding some mystical calling written in the stars (though if yours is, brilliant). It’s about discovering the “why” that makes the “what” bearable—and discovering it might be simpler, funnier, and more transformative than you’d think.

Five Key Takeaways about How to figure out your Purpose in Life

Life purpose acts as a natural stress filter, helping you distinguish between what genuinely matters and what’s merely masquerading as urgent
Purpose doesn’t eliminate stress; it transforms your relationship with it, turning anxiety into meaningful tension rather than paralysing fear
Your life purpose needn’t be grandiose—it can be beautifully ordinary, like creating spaces where people feel seen and heard
Clarity around purpose dramatically reduces decision fatigue, that exhausting mental state where choosing between almond milk varieties feels like a philosophical crisis
Purpose-driven living increases resilience, giving you something larger than temporary setbacks to anchor your identity and energy

Introduction: The Antidote Hiding in Plain Sight

We’ve been taught that stress is the enemy—something to be managed, medicated, or mindfully breathed away during expensive yoga retreats. We buy journals with inspirational quotes, download meditation apps, and promise ourselves we’ll finally learn to say no. Yet stress persists, shape-shifting into new forms, always one step ahead of our coping strategies.

But what if we’ve been approaching this backwards? What if the most powerful stress-reduction tool isn’t about managing symptoms but about addressing the fundamental question underneath all that anxiety: What am I actually doing here?

When you don’t know your life purpose, every decision carries equal weight. Should you take that job? Attend that event? Answer that message? Without a guiding principle, your nervous system treats each choice as potentially life-altering, flooding your body with stress hormones designed for actual emergencies, not LinkedIn connection requests.

Knowing your life purpose doesn’t magically eliminate challenges. What it does—and this is rather marvellous—is give you a measuring stick. Suddenly, some stresses reveal themselves as irrelevant noise, whilst others transform into meaningful obstacles worth navigating. You’re not less busy; you’re busy with intention. And that distinction? That changes everything.

Sam’s Shrinking Story

Sam Addison stood in her kitchen at 6:47 on a Tuesday morning, surrounded by evidence of a life spiralling brilliantly out of control. Three different breakfast cereals lay open on the counter—she’d been too frazzled to choose one, so she’d sampled all three. The bitter dregs of yesterday’s coffee sat congealing in a mug beside the sink, releasing that particular smell of defeat that only abandoned caffeine can muster. Her phone buzzed with its seventeenth notification of the morning, each one a tiny electric shock to her already jangling nerves.

She’d been promoted six months earlier—senior marketing director, corner office, salary that finally matched her student loan payments—and she’d never been more miserable. Or more stressed. Her doctor had used the phrase “chronic stress response” during her last visit, which sounded both serious and vaguely science-fiction, like something that might require medication with seventeen syllables.

The panic attacks had started three weeks ago. The first one ambushed her in Waitrose, of all places, standing in the organic tomato section. Her heart had suddenly decided to audition for a thrash metal band whilst her lungs forgot their primary function. A kind woman with a Yorkshire accent had helped her to a bench, pressing a cold bottle of water into her trembling hands. “Been there, love,” the woman had said. “Feels like dying, but you’re not. Promise.”

Now, staring at her three-cereal chaos, Sam felt the familiar tightness beginning in her chest. She pressed her palm against her sternum, feeling her heart’s frantic morse code. Not again, she thought. Please, not again.

Her phone rang—her mother. Sam almost didn’t answer, but old guilt won out.

“Darling, I’ve been thinking,” her mother began without preamble. “Remember when you were eight and you made that ‘feelings club’ in the garden shed? You’d invite all the neighbourhood children to sit in a circle and everyone would share something that had made them happy or sad that week. You kept it going for two years.”

Sam did remember, actually. The musty smell of that shed, the mismatched cushions she’d collected, the way Tommy Fletcher had cried when his hamster died and everyone had sat in respectful silence, holding space for his grief. She’d felt—what was the word? Important. No, not important. Purposeful. Like she was doing something that mattered.

“Why are you bringing this up?” Sam asked, her voice sharper than intended.

“Because you sounded dead in your voice last week, darling. I haven’t heard you sound alive since you started that job.”

After they rang off, Sam stood very still. Around her, the kitchen hummed with modern life—the fridge’s subtle drone, the dishwasher’s rhythmic swish, the central heating clicking on. But inside her head, something had gone suddenly, beautifully quiet.

She thought about her job: endless PowerPoint presentations to people who’d already decided what they wanted, budget meetings that stretched like taffy, the peculiar corporate theatre of pretending everyone’s ideas had equal merit when they clearly didn’t. She earned well. She had status. She could afford decent wine and wasn’t panicking about her pension.

But when was the last time she’d felt purposeful?

That evening, instead of her usual stress ritual (wine, Netflix, the hollow feeling of time passing), Sam did something different. She grabbed a notebook—an old one from university with coffee stains on the cover—and wrote at the top: What makes me feel purposeful?

The answers came slowly at first, then faster: Creating spaces where people feel safe to be vulnerable. Facilitating conversations that matter. Helping people find their own voices. Listening—really listening—to what’s underneath the words.

She sat back, staring at her own handwriting. These weren’t things she was doing at work. These were things she used to do. Things she’d abandoned in her sprint toward supposed success.

Over the following weeks, Sam started small. She couldn’t quit her job (mortgage, reality, etc.), but she could adjust her trajectory. She volunteered to facilitate the company’s mental health support group—something everyone else avoided because it wasn’t “career-enhancing.” She started hosting monthly storytelling circles in her flat, inviting friends and friends-of-friends to share meaningful experiences over soup and bread.

The panic attacks didn’t vanish overnight. But something shifted. When work stress hit—and it still hit—she had a framework for understanding it. This presentation that had her up at midnight? Not aligned with her purpose, therefore deserving of less emotional energy. That difficult conversation with her team member who was struggling? Absolutely aligned with her purpose, therefore worth the discomfort.

Six months later, at one of my storytelling circles (she’d found us through a friend who’d walked the Camino), Sam shared how knowing her life purpose hadn’t made her less busy. “I’m actually doing more,” she said, laughing. “But I’m stressed about different things now. Better things. Things that feel like they’re worth the anxiety.”

The room hummed with recognition. That’s the thing about purpose—it doesn’t eliminate stress. It recontextualises it. And in that recontextualisation, something remarkable happens: stress stops being the enemy and becomes, occasionally, a compass pointing toward what matters most.

The Science and Soul of Purpose-Driven Calm

Let’s explore why Sam’s experience isn’t unique. When you understand your life purpose, your brain does something rather clever: it begins to categorise stressors differently. Neuroscience research shows that our prefrontal cortex—the brain’s executive function centre—becomes more active when we engage in purpose-driven activities, even stressful ones. This increased activation helps regulate the amygdala, your brain’s alarm system.

In practical terms? When you’re stressed about something aligned with your purpose, your body still releases cortisol and adrenaline, but your brain interprets these chemicals differently. Instead of signalling danger, they signal challenge. This is called eustress—positive stress that energises rather than depletes.

Without a clear life purpose, every stressor triggers the same alarm bells. Your nervous system can’t distinguish between a meaningful deadline and a meaningless one, between a conflict worth having and one that’s simply draining. You’re like a smoke detector going off for both house fires and burnt toast—exhausting for everyone involved, especially you.

The Decision Fatigue Factor

Modern life presents us with approximately 35,000 decisions daily, according to some estimates. Most are trivial (which socks, which route to work, whether to respond to that text now or later), but they all consume cognitive energy. This is why successful people often wear the same outfit daily—they’re not fashion-challenged; they’re conserving decision-making capacity.

Life purpose acts as a decision-making algorithm. When you know your “why,” countless decisions become automatic. Should you take that committee position? Does it align with your purpose? No? Decision made, energy conserved, stress averted.

The Resilience Revolution

Perhaps most importantly, life purpose builds resilience—not the grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it variety, but genuine psychological flexibility. When your identity is anchored in purpose rather than outcomes, setbacks become less existentially threatening.

Lost your job? Devastating, yes—but if your purpose is “creating spaces for authentic connection,” that purpose survives the job loss. It might even flourish in unexpected ways. This isn’t toxic positivity; it’s the recognition that you are not your circumstances, and your purpose transcends your current situation.

Studies show that people with a strong sense of purpose recover from stress more quickly, experience fewer stress-related health problems, and report higher life satisfaction even during challenging periods. They’re not experiencing less stress; they’re experiencing less meaningless stress.

Purpose as Permission

Here’s something rarely discussed: knowing your life purpose gives you permission to disappoint people. Revolutionary, isn’t it? When you’re clear about your purpose, you can say no to good opportunities because they’re not the right opportunities. You can let people down (kindly, compassionately) because you’re saying yes to something more aligned with your deeper calling.

This is enormously stress-relieving. Much of our anxiety stems from trying to be all things to all people, from the exhausting performance of meeting everyone’s expectations. Purpose gives you a legitimate reason to disappoint people—not from selfishness, but from self-knowledge. There’s a freedom in that which is almost giddying.

A Word from St James’ Way

“I arrived at Margaretha’s Camino retreat believing my purpose needed to be something impressive—running a charity, perhaps, or writing a life-changing book. The stress of not knowing my ‘big purpose’ was eating me alive. Through the walking, the storytelling circles, and Margaretha’s gentle questions, I discovered my purpose was much simpler: I’m here to bear witness. To really see people and let them know they’ve been seen. That’s it. That’s enough. I still work in accounts, still do my spreadsheets, but now I approach it all differently. I see the person behind the numbers. I notice when someone’s struggling. My stress hasn’t disappeared, but it’s no longer existential—it’s just… stress. Manageable. Human. And sometimes, when I’m really living my purpose, it transforms into something that almost feels like joy.” — Emma T., First-Time Camino Walker, March 2024

Five Razor-Sharp FAQs about How to figure out your Purpose in Life

Q: What if I discover my life purpose but can’t afford to pursue it full-time?

A: Purpose isn’t a career requirement; it’s a lens through which you view your life. You can be a purpose-driven accountant, teacher, or parent. The question isn’t “Can I make money doing my purpose?” but “How can I infuse my current life with my purpose?” Sam didn’t quit her job; she adjusted how she showed up in it and created space for purpose outside it. Start where you are, with what you have.

Q: Does everyone have a singular life purpose, or can it change?

A: Thank goodness it can change—imagine being locked into your eight-year-old self’s purpose forever. (Mine was “eat sweets and own a pony,” which would have been limiting.) Your purpose often has a core theme that remains consistent whilst its expression evolves. Someone whose purpose is “creating beauty” might be a gardener in their twenties, a designer in their forties, and a hospice volunteer bringing flowers to patients in their seventies. Same purpose, different manifestations.

Q: I’ve tried journaling and reflecting, but I still feel unclear about my purpose. What now?

A: Stop thinking and start noticing. Purpose often reveals itself through action, not contemplation. Pay attention to when you feel most alive, when time disappears, when you’re simultaneously challenged and fulfilled. Notice what makes you righteously angry—injustice often points toward purpose. Try new things. Take the creative writing class, volunteer at the food bank, join the choir. Purpose is discovered, not decided.

Q: Can knowing my purpose actually increase stress if I’m not living it?

A: Temporarily, yes—there’s often a gap between discovering your purpose and fully embodying it. This gap can feel frustrating. But this is eustress, not distress. It’s the productive tension of growth, like the burn of muscles getting stronger. The alternative—remaining unconscious about your purpose whilst drowning in meaningless stress—is far worse. At least now you know what you’re working toward.

Q: What if my life purpose feels embarrassingly simple or small?

A: Brilliant. The world has quite enough people chasing grandiose purposes they don’t actually care about. Your purpose doesn’t need to impress anyone. If your purpose is “making people laugh during difficult times,” that’s extraordinary—ask anyone who’s been comforted by humour in their darkest moment. If it’s “creating order from chaos,” every organised person I know is a bloody hero. Simple doesn’t mean insignificant; it means clear. And clarity is what reduces stress.

Conclusion: The Path Forward Is Personal

Here’s what I’ve learned from years of facilitating storytelling circles and walking alongside people on their Camino journeys: your life purpose is already whispering to you. You’ve been hearing it in those moments when you feel most yourself, most alive, most connected to something larger than your to-do list.

Knowing your life purpose doesn’t eliminate stress because you’re human, and being human means encountering friction between what is and what could be. But it transforms that stress from a chaotic whirlwind into a focused wind at your back, pushing you toward what matters most.

Your purpose doesn’t need to be world-changing. It needs to be true. It doesn’t need to impress others. It needs to resonate with you. And it doesn’t need to eliminate all stress—it just needs to help you distinguish between the stress that’s draining your life force and the stress that’s shaping you into who you’re meant to become.

The question isn’t whether you’ll experience stress. The question is whether that stress will have meaning. And that answer begins with knowing why you’re here.

Walk Your Purpose Into Being: A Camino Invitation

There’s something about walking that bypasses the mind’s defences and speaks directly to the soul. Perhaps it’s the rhythm—left, right, breath, step—that quiets our internal chatter enough to hear that quieter voice underneath. Or maybe it’s the simplicity: when your immediate concern is putting one foot in front of the other, the pretentious barriers between you and your truth start crumbling.

My Camino de Santiago Crossroads Retreat in the sun-drenched hills of south-west France is designed for exactly this unravelling and rediscovering. We walk sections of this ancient pilgrimage route—not the full 800 kilometres (let’s be reasonable), but enough that your body remembers how to move with intention, enough that the landscape works its particular magic on your worried heart.

Between the walking, we gather for storytelling circles. These aren’t performative sharing sessions where everyone’s trying to sound profound. They’re authentic, often funny, occasionally tear-filled conversations where people discover they’re not alone in their confusion, their stress, their secret hope that there’s more to life than getting through each day.

We practise mindfulness and meditation—not the Instagram-aesthetic variety with perfect posture and designer cushions, but the real, sometimes fidgety practice of paying attention to what’s actually happening in this moment. And through guided exercises specifically designed for stress management, we explore that tender territory between who you’ve been told to be and who you actually are.

The French countryside won’t intimidate you. The ancient stones of the Camino path don’t care about your job title or your bank balance. And the other walkers? They’re too busy with their own unravelling to judge yours. This creates a rare space: permission to stop performing and start discovering.

Bring your questions, your stress, your confusion about what you’re meant to be doing with this one precious life. You’ll walk, share stories, sit in companionable silence, watching the sun set over hills that have witnessed countless other seekers. And somewhere between the walking and the talking and the quiet, you might just discover that your purpose has been hiding in plain sight, ready to transform your stress into something that feels remarkably like coming home.

No time to escape to the southwest of France?

I have created two controversial and counterintuitive online courses:

The Purpose Pursuit Protocol – if you want to discover your life purpose, this course will provide you with the clarity, motivation and direction you need to manifest your next chapter – in both your personal and professional life. Get immediate access

The Purpose Pivot Protocol – drawing inspiration from the Camino de Santiago, this transformative course guides you through a proven framework to recalibrate your authentic purpose and create a meaningful and fulfilling next act. Get immediate access

Spoiler alert: If you watch this month’s recommended TED talk, you’ll get an idea of where I’m going with this.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVsXO9brK7M

25/03/202315/10/2025

How to Detect Burnout At Work

In Yourself and In Others

Burnout:
A psychological bonfire where your passion, patience, and sense of purpose all roast marshmallows together until nothing’s left but crispy sarcasm

Introduction

“I just need a break.”

Often, when people write to me to make enquiries about my stress management retreats, either online or onsite here in the south of France, this sentence features prominently in their email, most often in the last paragraph. I have learned to sit up and take notice when I come across this sentence, as it is often said by people who are either burnt out already or on the verge of burning out.

Have you said that to yourself or to others recently? Did someone else say this to you?

Take notice, especially if you are an employer and you heard one of your employees say this.

People who are suffering from burnout at work, sometimes without realising it, often make statements that give away their state of mind. Depending on their individual experience and circumstances, they may say:

“I just can’t keep going anymore.” – Burnout can leave people feeling physically and emotionally exhausted, making it difficult to cope with their personal and professional responsibilities.

“I feel like I’m just going through the motions.” – Burnout can make people feel disconnected from their work, and from the people around them, causing them to feel as if what they do has no purpose or meaning.

“I don’t care anymore.” – Burnout can lead to a sense of apathy or detachment, causing people to lose interest in things that used to be important to them.

“I feel completely overwhelmed.” – Burnout can cause people to feel incapable of completing even small tasks, making it difficult to do what they are getting paid to do.

“I can’t handle this anymore.” – Burnout can make people feel like they’ve reached their breaking point, causing them to feel like they can’t deal with stress or any additional pressure.

“I don’t feel like myself anymore.” – Burnout can cause people to lose their sense of identity and which can result in a significant loss of self-esteem.

“I’m so frustrated.” – Burnout can lead to an intense sense of frustration, especially if people feel like they’re not making progress or reaching their targets.

“I feel like I’m stuck in a rut.” – Burnout can cause people to feel trapped, making it difficult to move forward or make changes in their personal or professional lives.

“I’m uber-stressed, all the time.” – Burnout can cause chronic stress, which can cause serious physical and psychological diseases.

“I can’t sleep. I either lay awake for hours before I fall asleep or I wake up early. Or I wake up twenty times during the night.” – Burnout can cause insomnia, which increases exhaustion and decreases performance.

Statements that allow us to detect burnout at work early are not always made using these exact words, everyone expresses themselves differently and everyone’s experience of burnout is unique. People may also make any of the above statements without having burnout.

If you have been reading my posts for a while, you are probably thinking: Where’s the story?

Well, here it is:

The Great Burnout Bake-Off

By the time Clara’s smartwatch told her to “stand up and breathe,” she’d already done both — twice, aggressively. It was 10:07 a.m., and she’d hit her burnout peak for the third time that week.

Her company, Zenyth Synergy Solutions, had recently launched a “Wellness Initiative” to “combat burnout with mindful productivity.” This translated to more meetings about burnout, which burned everyone out faster.

Last Tuesday’s meeting had been a PowerPoint titled “The Power of Powering Down.” The irony was so thick you could spread it on toast.

But Clara wasn’t alone. Across the country, employees everywhere were losing it. The world had become a giant pressure cooker powered by caffeine and “urgent” Slack notifications.

So when HR announced the Great Burnout Bake-Off, the internet collectively sighed, “Oh no.”

According to the company email — which began with “Hey Team!” and ended with “Stay grateful!” — everyone was encouraged to “channel your stress into baking!”

Clara hadn’t baked since the banana bread era of 2020, but she was desperate. Maybe, just maybe, flour therapy would save her sanity.

The day of the competition arrived. Clara, surrounded by chaos in her kitchen, decided to make a “Burnout Cake” — three layers: exhaustion, existential dread, and frosting made of tears. She even wrote “I’m Fine :)” on top in icing that determinedly kept melting off.

Meanwhile, her coworker Brad went all out. He made a gluten-free, sugar-free, joy-free “Corporate Carrot Cake” decorated with an inspirational quote like “Hustle Harder!”

When everyone logged onto Zoom for the judging, HR’s Becky appeared in a sunlit room holding a kale smoothie. “Welcome, team!” she chirped. “Remember, this is about fun and community!”

Clara, who hadn’t slept since Wednesday, smiled like a malfunctioning robot.

Each person presented their cake. Karen from accounting revealed a tiramisu shaped like a resignation letter. Dave from IT’s cheesecake simply read: “404: Motivation Not Found.”

Then came Clara’s turn.

“This,” she said, gesturing to the half-collapsed tower of frosting, “is my burnout cake. It represents the modern worker’s spiritual decay under late-stage capitalism.”

There was silence. Then Becky clapped. “Oh my gosh, that’s so relatable! You’re so authentic, Clara.”

Clara won first place. Her prize? A mindfulness journal and an unpaid afternoon off “to rest and recharge.”

She used it to take a nap. It lasted 11 hours.

When she woke up, her inbox had 247 new emails. One was from Becky.

Subject: “Following up on your rest day — hope you’re feeling reenergised!”
Body: “Quick reminder that we have a meeting tomorrow to discuss burnout prevention. Mandatory attendance. 😊”

Clara stared at the screen for a long moment, closed her laptop, and went back to bed.

Unpacking Burnout

Burnout (n.):
A modern affliction where enthusiasm goes to die quietly behind a glowing screen.

It starts innocently enough. You’re motivated. You’re driven. You say things like “I’ll just finish this one last thing.” Then “one last thing” multiplies like rabbits hopped up on espresso, and before you know it, you’ve forgotten what weekends are for and why your shoulders feel like they’re made of bricks.

Burnout isn’t just tiredness — tiredness can be cured with a nap and a burrito. Burnout is existential fatigue. It’s when your brain says, “I literally cannot,” and your body says, “Same.” It’s the point where you start fantasising about quitting society to raise goats somewhere with poor Wi-Fi.

Corporate America loves to talk about “preventing burnout,” usually by adding more meetings about burnout. You’ll hear phrases like self-care, work-life balance, and resilience — all wonderful words that mean nothing when your boss emails you at 10:43 p.m. asking for “just a quick update.”

The burned-out person becomes a paradox: hyperproductive yet barely functional, overconnected yet emotionally unplugged. They sip iced coffee like medicine and say things like “living the dream” with the dead eyes of someone who hasn’t seen daylight since Q2.

Burnout is not laziness; it’s the bill your body sends after years of overdrafting your energy account.

The cure? Maybe it’s boundaries. Maybe it’s therapy. Maybe it’s throwing your laptop into the sea and walking away in slow motion. Whatever it is, burnout is your body-mind’s polite way of saying: “You can’t keep doing this, champ.”

And deep down, you know it’s right.

Seriously though, how do you detect bunrout at work?

FAQ: Detecting Burnout at Work

1. What’s the difference between regular tiredness and actual burnout?

Regular tiredness improves with rest—a good night’s sleep or a weekend off helps you recharge. Burnout, however, is a state of chronic exhaustion that doesn’t improve with typical rest periods. You’ll notice it persists even after vacations, affects multiple areas of your life, and comes with emotional detachment or cynicism about your work. If you find yourself dreading work constantly, feeling emotionally numb, or thinking “what’s the point?” even about tasks you once enjoyed, that’s a red flag for burnout rather than simple fatigue.

2. What are the early warning signs I might miss while they’re developing?

The earliest signs are often subtle shifts in behavior: needing an extra coffee to get through the morning, procrastinating on tasks that used to be routine, or feeling irritable with colleagues over minor issues. You might notice yourself working longer hours but accomplishing less, or withdrawing from workplace social interactions you previously enjoyed. Physical symptoms like tension headaches, digestive issues, or disrupted sleep patterns can appear before you consciously recognize burnout. Many people also experience a creeping sense of detachment—going through the motions without feeling connected to their work’s purpose or impact.

3. How can I tell if it’s burnout or just a bad project/period at work?

A bad project creates temporary stress with a clear endpoint—once it’s done, you feel relief and can bounce back. Burnout feels pervasive and doesn’t lift when specific stressors end. Ask yourself: Does this feeling extend beyond one project to color how I view my entire job? Am I still finding satisfaction in any aspect of my work? Have I lost my sense of accomplishment even when completing tasks successfully? If negative feelings persist across multiple projects, affect your attitude toward work in general, and don’t improve during easier periods, you’re likely experiencing burnout rather than situational stress.

4. Can burnout affect my physical health, and what symptoms should I watch for?

Yes, burnout significantly impacts physical health because chronic stress keeps your body in a prolonged state of alert. Watch for persistent fatigue that doesn’t improve with sleep, frequent headaches or muscle tension (especially in the neck and shoulders), weakened immune function (catching every cold that goes around), digestive problems, changes in appetite, and disrupted sleep patterns including insomnia or sleeping too much. Some people experience heart palpitations, chest tightness, or increased blood pressure. These physical symptoms often appear alongside emotional exhaustion and shouldn’t be ignored—they’re your body’s way of signaling that stress levels have become unsustainable.

5. What’s the “Sunday Scaries” test, and why is it useful for detecting burnout?

The “Sunday Scaries” test refers to examining your emotional response as the weekend ends and the workweek approaches. Occasional mild anxiety about Monday is normal, but if you experience intense dread, physical symptoms like nausea or insomnia every Sunday night, or find your entire weekend overshadowed by thoughts about returning to work, this suggests burnout. The test is useful because it reveals whether your work stress has become chronic rather than episodic. When work anxiety colonizes your personal time and you can’t mentally disconnect even during days off, it indicates your relationship with work has become unsustainable—a hallmark of burnout that requires intervention.

Possible Burnout at Work Solutions

It is my life’s mission, first as a medical doctor and now as a retreat host, to help people manage stress, so they can avoid the permanent damage stress can cause.

Journaling Prompt to help you determine if you suffer from burnout: The “Past You” Conversation

Set aside 15 minutes in a comfortable spot. Imagine you could have a conversation with yourself from one year ago—before things felt this heavy.

Write a letter to the person you were a year ago, starting with:
“Hey, it’s me from the future. Here’s what I need you to know about where we are now…”
Tell them honestly: What’s different about how you feel at work? What have you lost along the way—maybe it’s enthusiasm, creativity, patience, or the ability to leave work at work? What would surprise them about who you’ve become in your job?
Now, flip the perspective. Let that past version of you respond:
What would they ask you? What would concern them? What advice would they give you, knowing what mattered to you back then?
The powerful question:
If your past self could see you now, would they recognize you? Or have you compromised so much of what made work meaningful that you’ve become someone you didn’t set out to be?
Here’s your permission slip:
The person you were a year ago had wisdom. They had boundaries, dreams, and standards for how they deserved to be treated. You don’t have to abandon who you’ve become, but you can reclaim what you’ve lost. Write one thing you want to bring back from who you used to be.

This isn’t about regret—it’s about remembering who you are beneath the exhaustion.

The Burnout to Breakthrough – a Roadmap to Resilience Protocol

The burnout epidemic has motivated me to create a 2-day online course called the Burnout to Breakthrough – a Roadmap to Resilience course. It is designed so that you can burnout-proof yourself during a weekend, by devoting four hours a day to the course two in the morning and two in the afternoon. It has gotten excellent reviews so far, so I am hoping that it will serve as my contribution to reducing burnout worldwide.

Worldwide.

Isn’t that awe-inspiring? That I can now reach hundreds or even thousands of people online, instead of just the few that come to my Camino de Santiago Walking retreats. Reaching people is so much easier since the pandemic.

The Camino de Santiago Crossroeds Retreats

My retreats focus on helping people who are going through life transitions, or who have to make important decisions, by walking the Camino de Santiago de Compostela.

More often than not, my onsite retreat guests arrive burnt out by the stress they had to endure trying to cope with the life transition they are stuck in, whether it is an empty nest, retirement, redundancy, losing a loved one, changing careers, starting a business etc.

https://margarethamontagu.com/camino-de-santiago-crossroads-retreat/

Conclusion

We can detect burnout at work early, merely by paying attention to what others are saying, and to what we are saying to ourselves.

The warning signs whisper before they shout—in the colleague who suddenly goes quiet in meetings, in our own internal dialogue that shifts from “I can handle this” to “I can’t do this anymore.” When we notice the cynicism creeping into conversations, the exhaustion that no longer lifts with rest, or the growing disconnection from work that once mattered to us, we’re receiving vital information. This awareness isn’t weakness; it’s wisdom. By listening closely to these signals—both in ourselves and in those around us—we give ourselves the chance to course-correct before burnout takes root. Early detection means early intervention, and early intervention means we can reclaim our energy, our boundaries, and our sense of purpose before they’re completely depleted. The power to prevent burnout begins with the simple, courageous act of paying attention.

“Just because you take breaks doesn’t mean you’re broken.”
― Curtis T. Jones

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or on the edge of burnout, you need immediate support. The Road Map to Resilience: Burnout to Brilliance online course (with the option of adding coaching sessions) is designed for exactly that: a practical, step-by-step course to help you regain control, rebuild your energy, and find clarity in the chaos. This isn’t a quick fix—it’s about proven strategies to calm your nervous system, shift your mindset, and create sustainable resilience. No need to cope with this on your own—let’s get you back on track.

Quick Summary

Introduction

Nina’s Tale of Two Retreats

The Hidden Psychology of Retreat Settings

Making Your Choice: A Framework for Decision

The Future of Meaningful Retreat Experiences

Frequently Asked Best Retreat Questions

Coming Home to Yourself

The Brutal Truth About Energy and Identity

Introduction

The Myth of “Just Believe and Receive”

The Brutal Truth About Manifestation

The Role of Energy in Manifestation

Identity: The Secret Ingredient

Elite-Level Mindset Shifts

Final Thoughts

From Troubled to Triumphant Transformational Retreats

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

In Praise of the Pause

I. The Paradigm of Waiting

II The Purpose of Waiting

A. The Delightful Irony of Self-Discovery

B. An Unexpected Opportunity to Build Relationships

C. Skill Development during Productive Rest

III. Reframing the Wait

IV. The Art of Waiting Well

The Surprising Benefits of Befriending an Introvert

Introduction

The Loud One and the Listener

10 Surprising Benefits of Befriending Introverts

Understanding and Acceptance

Unique Perspectives

Emotional Support

Misconceptions About Introverts and Friendship

Friends and Friendships

Thank you so much!

Introverts need Support during Life Transitions too

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!

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

Don’t Justify

What It Looks Like:

What To Do Instead:

Real-World Example:

Don’t Argue

What It Looks Like:

What To Do Instead:

Real-World Example:

Don’t Defend

What It Looks Like:

What To Do Instead:

Real-World Example:

Don’t Explain

What It Looks Like:

What To Do Instead:

Real-World Example:

Success Stories

Conclusion: Embracing the no-JADE lifestyle

References

When Helping Hurts

Lise’s Story: The Unbearable Weight of Caring

Ground Hog Day

The First Ominous Signs

Lisa’s Final Breaking Point

Enter Empathy Burnout

Drafting Her Map to Recovery

Reconnecting with Her “Why”

The Definition of Empathy Burnout

What’s the difference between Stress and Empathy Burnout?

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

Key Signs

Causes

Preventing and Managing Empathy Burnout

The Difference Between a Life Transition and Empathy Burnout

Empathy Burnout Self-Assessment FAQ

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

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

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

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

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

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