Breaking the hustle

Dismantling the stories and habits that keep us in rhythms of depletion at work and in our lives.

"And if you were to ask him
how he sings his blues so well, he says,
'I got a soul that I won't sell
I got a soul that I won't sell
I got a soul that I won't sell
and I don't read postcards from hell.'"

The Wood Brothers

**

I grew up in a small town. There was one stoplight, one pizza place, and absolutely zero to do after school, so I got a job bussing tables at a family-owned restaurant.

I was eleven.

I worked as many shifts as they would give me that summer. It was new so it felt like fun. I made $2,000. I traded floating down the creek on an inner tube for carrying trays of dirty dishes through the swinging kitchen doors. They paid me under the table.

I worked there for seven years — all through high school. During that time I was holding a lot with my workload. With my adolescence. I wasn't getting the support I needed at home or with friends so I used work as a way to be seen. To be valued. To be told that I was enough. I was good at bussing tables. I was little and fast and I got a lot of attention for being reliable. Efficient. Capable. Good.

Shortly after I started that job, I had this knot show up in my upper back — right below my left shoulder — that burned and ached. It was relentless. It felt tight and twisted and I would rub balms and creams on it to get it to soften and release. Sometimes it would go away for a few days. Maybe even a couple weeks if I was lucky. But it always came back. My body was asking for rest and care and I didn't know how to interpret the signals.

As an adult, I continued the habit of hustle. I gave so much to my work and those around me because I thought that was how I would finally feel seen. Whole. Supported. Loved. It was so much easier to sacrifice myself than face the hurt and sadness I felt as a kid. I didn't realize I had to learn how to love myself and advocate for my needs until I spent decades hustling.

It took me into my 40s to finally dismantle the stories that have kept me in rhythms that have left me depleted. I'm constantly on a journey to understand where my hustle is coming from and what it's really asking of me.

I have many humans ask me different forms of this question: How do I get from this well-worn path of these habits of hustle — that leave me feeling like a shell of a human — to the place where I'm energized and resilient?

Here's what I've learned so far:

Am I enough? This is a question I no longer ask anyone else but myself

This one is so deeply engrained that even now, with all of the healing I've done, I keep — unintentionally and indirectly — offering up the question to others: do you think I'm enough?

I do this the most at work. I am continuously met with challenges to solve that aren't really mine to hold. I can guide and support and design experiences that invite leaders into the work that will resolve the tension and suffering they're in, but I cannot hold or do the work for them. When these leaders aren't choosing to step into the work — something that is entirely out of my control — I am constantly questioning whether I'm good enough.

If I was good enough at this work, they wouldn't resist the path.

If I was smart enough, I would have thought of a better way to get them to come along.

If I was clever enough, I would have the exact words in the moment in the room to break through and resolve this tension.

[Queue all the catastrophic stories of unworthiness where I tell myself they think I'm shit and this will end up with me being isolated and alone.]

These stories and feelings weigh me down so heavily. They take me right back to that place of feeling invisible, scared, and alone. If I'm not paying attention, these stories push me straight into the hustle of proving, perfecting, and pushing harder. Showing them. Doing more. When I'm allowing others to answer whether I'm enough, I get trapped in prioritizing work and staying busy over listening to the wisdom in my body that knows if I slow down, make space, and focus on my well-being, I will find the way more quickly and with way less effort and energy.

What I am practicing asking is:

Am I acknowledging myself?
Am I recognizing my inherent value? And not just from the things I do but the way I'm showing up for myself, the people I really love, and those I lead.

Am I being brave and saying the things that need to be said?
Am I asking for the help and support I need?
Am I validating myself?

Do I see — and receive — how incredible, brave, real, worthy, and exceptional I am right now at this very moment?

As humans, we absolutely need connection, acknowledgement, validation, love and belonging from and with others. We are biologically wired for that. But we think depleting, abandoning, and neglecting ourselves — in service to a colleague, a boss, or pleasing someone in a role with more power and influence — is how we get people to see us. We could hustle for the rest of our lives to be seen by people who may never even see themselves.

What I know to be true is we only become seen — and whole — by seeing ourselves.

We become seen by practicing not questioning or doubting ourselves and our abilities. We become seen by learning to show up for ourselves. We become seen by taking a stand and using our voice even if it causes discomfort, disappointment, or comes with risk. We become seen by being brave enough to advocate for and meet our own needs. We become seen by admitting we don't know and asking for help. We become seen by doing the hard work of having grace and compassion for ourselves. We become seen by trusting our sensing, even when we make a mistake or fail. We become seen by letting others — whose opinion of us matters — love us.

We become seen by loving ourselves.

That question: Am I enough? is never anyone else's to answer. The only one who has the honor of answering that question is me. And even if I have more to learn, shed, or grow, I'm practicing answering with a resounding 'yes.'

Who do I want to be? And what am I willing to risk to be her?

It feels so much easier to be the person I don't want to be than to have the diligence and discipline to be more of who I am. But the truth is, it's actually way less effort to be who I am. It just feels scarier.

When I'm stuck in the rhythm of hustling — and I'm struggling to find my light and power — as soon as I can, I make space to slow down, breathe, be in nature, and orient toward the person I've promised myself I want to be:

Who is she?
How does she want to feel?
What does she eat?
What does she read?
What does she listen to?
Who does she spend her time with?
How does she take care of herself?
How does she take up space in a room?
How does she move through adversity?
How does she live?
How does she lead?
How does she love herself?
How does she love others?
What are her dreams?

In these answers is where I find the human who knows she doesn't have to hustle. When I've been listening too long to the stories that tell me I can't be that, have that, or do that, I align here. Whatever it is I'm naming in these questions, I'm not asking too much. And I'm willing to risk my comfort — as well as the approval of others — to be who I am. This orientation is a continuous, non-negotiable practice for me as I put down the hustle and get clear about where I'm headed.

Energy is everything

When I was deep in the throes of living my hustle, I did everything possible to center my life around work. Even when I was growing my company and able to delegate to others on my team, I would fill all of the gorgeous space I just opened up with more work. More busy. More doing.

But more gave me nothing.

Over the last two years, I've learned the practice of centering around my energy rather than my work.

This shift is not selfish. This shift is redistributing your center of gravity. This shift doesn't mean you don't honor your commitments to your work or the roles in your life. It means you're centering around your health and well-being first so you can heal, be whole and full. This shift has brought me to the most authentic and genuine place in my being that holds all of my wisdom.

When I first made this shift, I had to watch for the signals my body was sending me that I was trapped in a rhythm of hustle:

The strain in my hips and shoulders.
The tension in my head and chest.
Waking up after nine hours of sleep and not feeling rested.

And then there's:

A general undertone of anxiety.
The irritability.
The overthinking.
The inability to get a deep breathe past my throat.

One of the loudest signals I get is when I hear constant voices making lists and calculating linear equations and step-by-step instructions that are supposed to help me solve very uncertain, complex problems that require I lead from my heart space and sense my way through it.

When this is happening — when I finally pay attention — I have to force myself to interrupt the pattern and realign my energy with a different rhythm.

For me, alignment comes from being in nature. Sitting. Going for a walk. Breathing. Removing myself completely from doing any tasks. I practice realigning all the time during my work day as soon as I can, but I also practice intentionally aligning before my day even starts.

In the mornings — depending on how much space I have — I will get into my body with some yoga poses. I will bring my tea and a blanket and sit outside under the Hawthorne tree. I will orient to who I want to be and use that to keep me focused energetically throughout the day. And when I have moments or days where I just cannot seem to get there, I give myself compassion and grace and try again tomorrow.

When I'm supporting leaders in making this shift, there's often two parts to pay attention to: systems and doing, energy and being.

Systems and doing

Breaking the hustle and getting your energy back starts with being conscious of the operating rhythms we use to move through our days. We have a rhythm for working. We hopefully have a rhythm for nourishing and moving our bodies. For being with our friends and family. We have a rhythm for rest. We have a rhythm for adulting.

Rhythms are systems and we use them at work and at home. Many times we are unconsciously moving through rhythms that require a lot of our time and energy that don't actually result in valuable work or desirable outcomes. Start to question your systems and your doing:

• What is the general schedule that runs my life? What are the recurring events that take up space? What are the responsibilities that I manage? How do I share those (or could I share those) with others?

• What are the recurring meetings I attend at work? Am I/we clear on the purpose and outcomes of those meetings? Are there meeting structures that would help us be more intentional and get what we need in less time?

• Is there another way to achieve the outcomes of our meetings without having a meeting? Are there systems we can use (like moving communication out of email and into software like Google, Slack, Teams, Trello, etc)?

• Do I need to be a part of all of my meetings?

• When I look ahead at my month/week, what are the rhythms I need to complete the projects and priorities I'm contributing to? What space do I need to clear in my schedule to do the actual work? When will I collaborate with and support others? Where do I need support?

• When will I move my body? Rest and recharge? Eat? Play? Do my necessary adulting? Connect with myself, friends, and family? How will I design my month/week/days to allow for this?

Energy and being

Once you're clear about all the doing you have in your life, start to question where you're hemorrhaging energy:

• Where is my energy going? How do I currently use it? How do I want to use it.

• What are the things that I do each day that give me energy and bring me joy? What about the things that suck me dry?

• Where do I hold onto things that aren't mine? Where can I let go? Both at work and at home?

• Where am I taking responsibility for something that someone else needs to carry so they can grow?

• Where am I rescuing and fixing rather than coaching and supporting others to be accountable and think strategically (at work and at home)?

• What are the practices that rejuvenate me? What are the things I need to make space for that fill me up with energy?

• What are the stories, fears, doubts, and emotions I'm not tending to that keep me spinning and wasting precious energy? What are my practices for supporting myself as I move through that?

• Where am I trying to be seen by others? Where can I better advocate for my needs? Where can I acknowledge, recognize, love, and celebrate myself?

• What are the stories I’m telling myself that I cannot let go of or redesign the way I move through work and life?

When we're breaking the hustle, it's not just about making room in our schedules and questioning systems and processes that aren't working. It's fiercely owning our energy and taking it back. Breaking the hustle means energetically clearing space and having boundaries so we can drop unnecessary weight — not just useless meetings but also tasks and work and people and things that hemorrhage our energy.

Start to pay attention to the answers to these questions. And then give yourself permission to start dismantling and designing what you really want. This is the path to feeling rested and resilient. This is the path to trusting yourself. This is the path to knowing your worth and truly being seen.

The soul that I won't sell

The moment we step in and break our hustle, we become more alive. The minute we begin this, we dismantle the stories and habits that keep us in rhythms of depletion in our work and in our lives.

I get it now. No amount of dirty dishes cleared or challenges solved in my work is going to make me feel more seen, loved, or whole. That part is up to me.

Breaking the hustle and reclaiming my energy has been years of work — and it's all happened in phases and stages. I still fall into all of the traps. But I'm also listening and paying attention for where I'm not keeping my promises to myself and doing whatever it takes to get back into alignment.

What I'm most proud of is how I've been teaching my kids to do the same. And when they feel isolated, alone, overwhelmed, or not seen, we get to move through that together. I get to show them how to pay attention to their stories and fears, their rhythms, and the signals their bodies are giving them. Now they know how to stop sacrificing their souls so they can continue becoming who they are really meant to be.