The thrill and trap of overdrive
Reflections on staying human at work
Welcome to Rewilding the Feminine, my newsletter on my search for a wilder and more authentic life. In my letters, I share the insights and questions I encountered on this big journey called life – the biggest of all being what it is that makes me feel both wildly alive and at home within myself. I would love it if you’d do the same. You can share your insights and experiences in the comments or reply to this email!
I’m sitting on my balcony with my morning coffee and a slightly stale pain au chocolat from yesterday. The indian summer sun is warming my bare legs, and it feels incredibly good to have a Sunday morning with zero plans and ample space to soak up its energy before the rain comes in later tonight. My muscles feel tight from yesterday's Rocycle class, but my internal tension has finally subsided a bit after the most stressful week at work I’ve had in years.
On Monday morning, my manager told me she’d suggested me as the interim chair of a working group in a rather crucial phase of a project with a tight deadline. On Tuesday and Wednesday, I’d had four 90-minute meetings and been completely sucked into the crazy energy of this project. Within two days, it was the last thing I’d be thinking about before falling asleep and the first thing that crossed my mind after my alarm went off in the morning.
This new responsibility at work made me reflect on workplace culture as I was flung into overdrive. A feeling that felt strangely familiar and much more intense than I remembered. I spent much of my relatively short career in a permanent state of overdrive, and I started to wonder how I functioned like that in the past. The experience made me extra grateful to work for an organization that values people’s well-being far beyond the workplace, but that hasn’t always been the case.
My first serious job after graduation was at a ministry where the vibe was this: you’re either busy and thereby deemed important, or you’re rather insignificant and therefore extremely replaceable. The first category of people got to sit in on important meetings, brief the minister, and consequently be promoted; the second category was doomed to an uneventful and forgettable existence in an unknown corner of the open-plan office. At least, that’s how my 23-year-old brain perceived the situation.
I’m someone who wants to contribute something to the world, leave it a slightly better place, dare I say – make a difference. For a long time, I thought that the only way to do that was always to be super busy, cross my own boundaries daily, never say no, and hide the parts of myself that didn’t align with this work ethic.
During the first few years of my career, I did everything I could to belong to the first category. The downside of it, being constantly thrown off focus by more ‘urgent’ things and never being able to dig down on the things I deemed important, was something I took for granted. Most of the time, I didn’t even really know what I found important—there was no time or space to think about these things amidst the delusion of the day.
And even if I did figure out my own opinion on an issue, it didn’t really matter, as it would most likely be overruled by political decisions higher up. I remember sharing my astonishment about this way of working with my senior, who told me I’d get used to the fact that most good ideas were ignored or put aside for political profiling or other obscure reasons I found hard to understand. According to him, the way to succeed was to make peace with the fact that political decisions were mostly irrational and rarely based on facts, moral grounds, or societal benefits. I quickly figured out that to satisfy my desire to fit in and be praised, I had to comply.
As a junior official, I was regularly put forward as the voice of the future or presented as someone with a fresh perspective. Still, if these didn’t align with internal or external politics, they were put aside in the blink of an eye and followed up with a request to come up with a more politically feasible solution. So that’s what I did. I tried to make myself more visible by putting my hand up for late-night debates, answering emails at 9 pm, and voicing what I thought people in leadership wanted to hear. I joined the office sport to come up with plans that might just pass the bar of technical feasibility or economic and social sensibility, but that would elate the politicians in office.
As a sensitive sensation seeker, I liked the thrill that came with the sense of urgency and importance that hung in the air. Soon, my inner desire to be seen and validated drove me in the direction of some high-profile issues. However, looking back, my sensitive side was often overwhelmed by the stress of others and the neverending business that surrounded me. I kept a ‘balance’ by going out with office friends on Thursday nights, collectively drinking away our stress and moral obligations, and by putting my 48 vacation days to good use. Only years after I left did I fully realize how unhealthy and morally conflicting this work environment had been for me.
You may have guessed it already: I’m back at the ministry. As soon as this project landed in my lap, it pushed all my buttons and sent me back into overdrive. A place I hadn’t been for ages. When I entered the building, I felt a jolt of nervousness going through my body. Just by being in the beehive amongst all these busy workers, I was flooded with a sense of urgency that wasn’t my own. During the first meeting, I felt my inner voice shrinking, and I felt anxious every time I opened my mouth. My boundaries disappeared, and I readied to throw myself into the snake pit of conflicting interests that this project seemed to be in an attempt to ‘save’ it. Again, I let myself be lured into trading my humanness for productivity and validation by checking my email after dinner and offering to always be available. At the end of day 1, my system was flooded with adrenaline, and I needed a long walk without my phone to come back to earth. Day 2 was barely better.
On day 3, a close colleague who kindly made himself available for a vent session called it my stress-management boot camp and offered to get me a t-shirt that says ‘FUCK THE SYSTEM.’ We laughed out loud and voiced our shared grief about the way things go – a great way to relieve some stress. Now that we're on day 7, I can slowly see how this project can be the ultimate learning experience for me in staying grounded and true to myself and not letting myself be overtaken by the stress and emotions of others. Tomorrow morning I intend to take on this project like I would nowadays take on any other: with the knowing that in the end work is just work, and no one will die if I don’t respond to emails after 6 pm.
I find it fascinating how the familiarity of an experience can mentally and emotionally put us back in time. As soon as I started this project for the ministry, I felt so small and insignificant again. Like my younger self, I wanted to be heard, make a difference. I believed that in order for people to notice and appreciate me I had to work extremely hard, and I felt that only when others would see and validate me, I’d really exist. I wanted to belong and be deemed important. I wanted to matter.
But I know that if I mold myself into a shape that isn’t me or say things that aren’t true for me, it won’t help me to make an impact. It’ll only burn me out. I need to make peace with the fact that even in this new role, I am unlikely to make more than a marginal difference in the final outcome, no matter how hard I work. I need to accept that not everyone will agree with me and that the dynamic might be a bit icy at times. Friction can be functional, especially if I don’t put myself in the middle of it.
In the coming weeks, I’ll double down on my stress-release practices to prevent the tension from getting stuck in my body and to stay connected to myself and my values. Things that work well for me are moving my body, moving my body, and moving my body – in any way possible. Going for a dip in the sea, adding an extra yoga or cycling class to my schedule, and re-commiting to my embodied movement practice will all help me to stay grounded and human. By taking note of how I’ve grown and how I continue to grow through this experience, I practice gratitude for my strength and resilience. Noticing what pushes me into overdrive and consciously getting myself out of it is already a huge step from pushing forward without respite.
✍🏻 I’m curious to hear how you stay human at work. Has your relationship with work changed over time? When was the last time you felt consumed by work? How do you stay grounded in such moments? Let me know in the comments!
I feel this so hard. Amazing work for catching yourself in the storm in real time. And also for accessing your internal resources to navigate it better than ever before. Still, sending you lots of love and compassion, cause it's still a storm - and those are hard.