Anti-burnout: letting go before you burn out

First published in Russian on Habr, in EPAM's blog, on 13 January 2022. By Konstantin Valuiskii (@sveekey).

When I wrote the first version of this article, I was a game designer at EPAM. My job often involved keeping people engaged with an app so that they wouldn't “burn out” — in other words, lose interest in the product. There are various mechanisms for this: an endless supply of goals, a stepped difficulty curve, the promise of an appealing result on the journey from point A to point Z.

These mechanisms look a lot like the way I organise my own life. I set goals, keep lists and try to picture the end result, too. But I found some unpleasant traps in this approach that kept taking me back to where I'd started.

That's what I want to talk about.

When even the right techniques stop feeling good

In the original article, I used “burnout” to mean a loss of interest in work and life. A clarification is useful here: the WHO definition of occupational burnout relates specifically to chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed. Its dimensions include exhaustion, distance from work and reduced professional effectiveness. The WHO definition.

Here, I'm mainly describing my own experience of tiredness, lost interest and an endless chase after results. This is a reflection on how I use my attention.

For me, that empty feeling could arrive when a project ended. Or when a project seemed as though it would never end — and sometimes couldn't really end at all.

There are plenty of techniques to help organise work and life: plan your calendar, protect time for rest, define tasks more clearly, exercise, walk and meditate. I've written elsewhere about how I began exploring meditation.

Yet you can follow the templates and do everything “right” while still losing your enjoyment. Perhaps the approach itself also matters.

I realised I was trying to deal with the consequences while missing part of what was happening. The techniques made me more efficient and seemingly “technically burnout-proof”, but whole stretches of my life were passing me by.

I was moving quickly towards my goals, taking ever larger leaps towards my own finish line. I might not have been burning out, but my life was burning away.

The traps between A and Z

I tried to understand these side effects and noticed three traps.

• Point A becomes a bad place. As soon as I draw a route from A to Z, where I am now starts to seem inadequate. And so do I. I move forward out of guilt, a sense of imperfection or comparison with others. Wherever I am now is wrong.
• The result quickly becomes another starting point. I finally reach my point Z — “achievement and happiness” — and feel pleased. Before long, another goal appears. Yesterday's Z becomes today's imperfect A. Around we go again.
• The rest of the alphabet disappears: B, C, D, E… The colour and interest drain from the process itself. Enjoyment is somewhere ahead, dangling like a carrot. Until the task is done, we smile and grind away, exercise and even meditate on schedule.

What I mean by anti-burnout

How can I do things that matter while enjoying the life happening along the way?

I called the following approaches “anti-burnout”. For me, they add a different inner context to the techniques.

1. Work for people

Millions of people worked to make it possible for us to read this text on a computer.

Even dull work can feel more meaningful when I picture a particular person I'm doing it for. How pleased they might be when something becomes easier, clearer or simply starts working.

Try imagining one person, or a few people, your work will help. Sometimes that brings back more interest than another carrot at the finish line.

2. Do something for the process itself

Simply because you can.

As Porthos puts it: “I fight because I fight.”

When I force myself through everything without enjoyment, I soon run out of energy. Before starting, I try to ask myself: “How could I enjoy doing this?” That includes work.

I also try deliberately slowing down. Hurry “burns away” enjoyment. If thoughts are the fuel we run on, enjoyment, in this metaphor, is the lubricant that lets us feel the journey as well as reach the destination.

3. Learn to switch your attention for real

At lunchtime, your body may already be at the table while your attention is still working through a problem.

If I ask, “How could I enjoy this meal?”, my answer begins with paying attention to the food: looking at it and noticing its flavours.

The same thing can happen while playing with my child. I can be there physically while mentally listing everything I need to do afterwards. The “flavour” of playing disappears, too.

If I don't notice that I'm playing on autopilot, how can I switch? First, I have to notice that my attention has wandered.

Noticing — mindfulness — is something I practise through meditation, among other things.

4. Return to what is happening now

I noticed that writing tasks down doesn't always clear my head. My mind still wanders, only now it wanders into “lists about lists”.

When I'm doing one thing and thinking about ten others, my attention seems to split into little streams. Time flies because I'm always somewhere in the future.

This is an observation about my experience, rather than a universal explanation of what causes burnout.

When I notice I've drifted back to the planning horizon, I try to return to “zero”: the starting point of this moment. For a while, I narrow that horizon to what I'm doing now.

It doesn't always happen instantly. My thoughts have gathered speed in one direction, and switching a familiar pattern takes time. I don't need to force myself to stop thinking. I can gently return to what I can see or feel.

Try:

• looking closely at an object nearby and noticing its shape, colour and texture; quietly appreciating, “What a lovely thing”;
• asking yourself, “What can I see now? And now?”;
• feeling the support beneath your feet, or how your palm touches the table.

I find it helpful to distinguish two skills in meditation:

• Mindfulness: noticing that attention has wandered.
• Concentration: keeping the chosen object in awareness and returning to it.

Some traditions describe deep collected attention as “dhyana”. You don't have to reach a special state to begin. Noticing the distraction and returning is enough.

Meditation: “burning it all away”

What has already burned cannot catch fire

It sounds paradoxical, but this metaphor gave the original article its title.

For me, meditation offers a chance to “burn away”, for a little while, the pressure to be useful all the time: goals, results and ideas about who I ought to become. Like a firebreak in a forest, where there's nothing left to feed the flames.

During that pause, I don't have to keep improving myself. I can simply observe the breath, sensations and sounds.

Sometimes familiar things become interesting again afterwards. In the first version, I described this as “renewing the receptors”. I'd now put it more precisely: my perception of familiar things changes. It isn't a promise of a literal physiological reset.

I value that pause for the chance to become curious again: about the world, action or inaction, routine and things I usually rush past.

What doesn't need setting alight cannot burn

We've heard so much about results and usefulness that simply being can feel unfamiliar — being without a task to become better immediately.

Stopping can be frightening. What if someone overtakes me? What if I have no goal? What if I have to meet myself?

For me, stopping for a while is a chance to wake up from all that running and look around. Who is running, where to, and is it really necessary to run even faster right now?

You don't have to reach your perfect point Z to earn a pause. You can begin where you already are.

What changes in the familiar techniques

Anti-burnout doesn't rule out calendars, rest or other techniques. I think of it as an extension: using them without becoming their hostage.

From the outside, I may do the same things, but with a different inner context:

• pushing myself less;
• taking a more playful approach to techniques;
• doing things out of interest, rather than only for the next result;
• returning my attention to the process;
• avoiding extra problems where there aren't any.

A better attitude alone doesn't resolve excessive demands at work, though. Sometimes the workload needs to change, boundaries need discussing, rest needs restoring and support is needed. If exhaustion and lost interest persist or affect your whole life, discuss them with a qualified professional.

Meditation is one tool I use for attention. Its effects vary between people. You don't need to force yourself to continue if you become noticeably more distressed or anxious. What we know about meditation's effectiveness and safety.

A few practices for an ordinary day

• In bed in the evening: feel how your body is lying. Ask yourself how you'd like to settle now.
• While eating: put your tasks aside for a moment and notice the flavour. You could even say to yourself, “What delicious broccoli.”
• Before a work task: ask, “How could I enjoy doing this?”
• Outside or at home: find something simple you like right now. “How wonderful X is,” where X might be light on a wall, moving your hand, the air, or the chance to stand still for a moment.

You don't have to turn this into another self-improvement plan. Sometimes it's enough to notice what is already happening.

Where to go from here

I'd like you to have attention and energy left for life between tasks. To live at your point A, rather than use it only as a run-up to the next goal.

In our FYSM online club, we set aside time for movement, breathing and paying attention to ourselves. Savasana also makes room for meditative practice.

I'm also considering a separate meditation club. It hasn't opened yet. If you're interested in regular practice, clear explanations and a chance to ask questions, leave a request below. It will help me understand the interest and choose a format.