When burnout whispers… do you listen?

Me being held by a tree.

In the photo above, I’m nestled in the arms of a tree in Taranaki — deep in my Level 2 Somatic Dance training. I didn’t plan this moment. I didn’t perform it. I just felt the pull to lean in, and let myself be held.

Someone captured this tender image, and it’s become a quiet reminder to receive. To soften. To let something — or someone — truly support me.

So often, I crave nature. I facilitate spaces for others to slow down and nourish themselves. And yet, the receiving part? That’s still a work in progress. Not because I don’t long for it, but because I’m still learning what it means to fully let in safety, support, and community.

And I know I’m not alone.

Many of us, especially those who identify as empaths, sensitives, or carers, feel the world deeply. And sometimes we don’t realise just how much we’re carrying until the body says, “enough.”

The Edge of Burnout

If you’ve been part of my one-day Burnout Prevention Immersions or the 5-week nervous system support programmes, you’ll know I often speak to the difference between empathy and compassion.

Though often used interchangeably, these two are very different, and understanding that difference can be a turning point, especially for those in caregiving roles, health, veterinary, or community work.

Here’s how I explain it:

•Empathy: Feeling what someone else is feeling. Absorbing it. Taking it on as your own.

•Compassion: Witnessing someone’s pain with care, without becoming entangled in it.

What many call “compassion fatigue” is actually empathic fatigue. When we’re not resourced. When we don’t have boundaries. When we push on through until the immune system gives up, or we find ourselves in burnout, anxiety, or hospital beds.

This kind of burnout is real. And it’s rising.

Rest as Resistance

So what can we do?

In this season, autumn turning towards winter, we’re being invited to slow down. To rest. To nourish.

And not just the surface-level kind of rest (although warm baths and early nights have their place). I’m talking about the deep, nervous system kind of rest. The kind that helps our adrenals, kidneys, immune system, and psyche feel safe enough to soften.

There’s a book I highly recommend reading called Rest is Resistance by Tricia Hersey — it’s poetic, radical, and deeply affirming. I highly recommend adding it to your list. She speaks particularly to Black people, but her message resonates universally: when we reclaim rest, we’re disrupting a system that tells us we are machines. When we choose to pause, nap, breathe, and be still, we are saying: my body is sacred, my worth is inherent, and I will not be owned by this system.

Importantly, Hersey doesn’t frame rest as an escape from activism or justice work, rather, she sees it as a foundation for it. She writes that individual rest ripples outward. When we care for our own bodies and nervous systems, we expand our capacity to show up in community, to imagine new worlds, to resist with clarity and heart.

In this way, Rest is Resistance offers a powerful reframe: that deep personal care is collective care, and that slowing down is not a weakness—it’s a strategy for liberation.

Another book I’ll be exploring soon is Wintering by Katherine May — a gentle invitation into the wisdom of winter. If you’d like to read it with me, I’d love to share reflections along the way.

And then there’s the book ‘Burnout’ by Emily and Amelia Nagoski

This book is vital because it doesn’t just tell you to “manage stress”—it explains how stress lives in the body and how, unless we complete the stress cycle, it accumulates and leads to burnout, disconnection, and illness. The authors make it clear: burnout isn’t a personal failure, it’s a systemic issue. The culture expects endless output, emotional labour, perfectionism, and people-pleasing, especially from women and then blames us when our bodies break down.

What makes Burnout so powerful is that it connects the dots between personal exhaustion and societal expectations. It helps readers understand that by learning how to support our nervous systems, complete the stress cycle, and prioritise what truly matters, we’re not just healing ourselves, we’re challenging a culture that benefits from our depletion.

Reading this book gives you practical tools, validation, and language to see your burnout not as weakness, but as a sign of your body’s intelligence and your spirit’s refusal to comply with a broken system.

A Few Nervous System Nourishment Tips for Winter

•Yoga Nidra: 20 minutes is equivalent to 3–4 hours of deep REM sleep. Try free apps like Insight Timer or Calm.

One of favourite nidras here- https://insig.ht/5SvA4exywSb

→ Here is one of my favourite guided meditations I’ve come across recently. https://insig.ht/rokVXQCvrSb

-> Here is a favourite sound journey on insight timer. https://insig.ht/IBGkKlWNrSb

And

My favourite Māori sound journey with Puoro Jerome

https://open.spotify.com/album/0BRkOLCuGJwERhjDSzYQAl?si=Oghh9M_HSE66JF66Ikab6A

•Adaptogens + Vitamins: Gentle support for the adrenals with supplements like magnesium, vitamin D, B-vitamins, or electrolytes (check with your practitioner if unsure).

•Oil for Skin Hydration: Lotions often evaporate too quickly. I’ve found organic body oils much more nourishing for keeping my skin hydrated during the cooler months.

•Honour Circadian Rhythms: As the days shorten, our melatonin production shifts. Try leaning into this change — more rest, more stillness, less screen time in the evenings.

•Social Boundaries: Notice when your body says “no.” You don’t need a reason. Your energy matters.

Gentle Reflection Prompts

•How does burnout whisper to me before it screams?

•What does receiving feel like in my body?

•Where am I resisting rest, even when I long for it?

•What boundaries help protect my energy and nervous system?

•What does nourishment look and feel like — truly?

I’ll be sharing more about winter nervous system care in the coming weeks, but for now, I hope this newsletter meets you somewhere in the stillness.

Let yourself rest.

Let yourself be held.

Let yourself receive.