Outsmart the Work Burnout

Frameworks for Creative & Professional Work Flow

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the difference between truly being productive and overworking myself into exhaustion. I wear many hats on a weekly basis. I’m often the carefree creative, or the compassionate friend. Sometimes I’m a fun-loving confidant or the comrade fighting on the front lines, eyes fixed on utopian dreams others have grown too weary to see.

Photo by Bruce Christianson on Unsplash

There are times when I’m in a state of flow (creatively, professionally) and everything just clicks. And then there are those other times: pushing through burnout, grinding through fatigue, trying to keep up with expectations that don’t even feel like mine. I get frustrated, depressed and dissatisfied. I wonder where the angst originates.

As someone who’s neurodivergent, I’ve had to create systems to support the way I learn, work and move through the world. To be clear: I don’t adhere to rigid systems—those never work for me. Instead, I’ve built flexible frameworks that allow me to focus and flourish. We all have strengths and areas of growth. Our strengths are magic. I think of it this way: magic works best when it’s held in a container.

Now that I’m older, I’ve realized something else: this relentless focus on speed—on being the fastest, most productive—isn’t just exhausting, it actually upholds white supremacist capitalist ideologies. And I don’t mean that in some abstract way. I mean it literally. What we’ve being doing for decades hasn’t worked. We’re still at square one. Maybe it is time to pause and reevaluate. Right now, fascism is gaining tremendous ground. Wouldn’t it be a misstep if all we do is react to it?

Sure, we need to respond, but we also need to build entirely new frameworks. Because when we’re constantly responding, we’re purely playing defense. And if you’re only ever playing defense, how do you score? At some point, we freedom fighters have to make the play. We have to ask: Are we even moving like we’re on the same team?

(Sorry for the sports metaphor—I went to a Valkyries game last weekend and I guess it stuck with me!)

Why am I writing this? I want to share a few things that have worked for me, ways I’ve found real flow and a genuine sense of accomplishment. Not just checking boxes or meeting external expectations, but feeling like I’m moving forward toward something meaningful, wholistic, earth-shattering even.

1. Ask Questions (Even if It Annoys People)

I ask a lot of questions. And yes, sometimes it irritates people. They might interpret it as undermining their expertise. But I’ve found it’s way more respectful to ask thoughtful, compassionate questions than to avoid what needs to be discussed. Inquiring about the goals of a project or what someone truly wants to accomplish creates clarity—and that clarity leads to better work outcomes.

I was recently on a call (our second one, actually) with someone interested in contracting me for a social media project. As we talked, I realized that before we could move forward, I needed a clear container for the collaboration. I don’t have unlimited time to help people sort through loosely formed ideas during meetings—I’m juggling multiple projects every week. So I ended the call early and asked if they could send me a detailed work plan before we had another meeting.

When they sent it over, I noticed it didn’t include dates, so that’s something I’ll give feedback on. It’s a simple example, but these boundaries help me show up with more purpose.

2. Emotions Matter—Even at Work

I’ve said this before, but I think it is worth repeating: we are emotional beings. That’s just the truth. It’s easier to acknowledge this in creative or artistic work, but even in professional settings, so much of what we do is about navigating emotions, especially now.

People are overwhelmed, triggered, emotionally raw. Often, they just want to be heard. I’ve spent most of my life working in the nonprofit world, and I’ve seen how martyrdom culture—“We have to do it all, and we have to do it fast!”—can be incredibly toxic. The nonprofit industrial complex hasn’t necessarily served us well. In some cases, I’ve found nonprofit spaces more toxic than corporate ones, because of the unspoken belief that martyring ourselves is noble if it’s “for a good cause.” That kind of work ethic isn't sustainable, and it doesn’t even lead to better results.

3. Stay Grounded in the Now

I’ve been thinking a lot about when I feel grounded, and when I feel untethered. My maternal grandmother, who I love deeply, has been on my mind. She’s a Leo, a fire sign, the matriarch of our family. Growing up, she worked tirelessly raising five kids in the home, but also went back to school to become a nurse. She negotiated this shift with my grandfather, who was traditional and skeptical at first (they were both raised Catholic). But she laid out her case rationally, and he agreed. That decision changed their lives.

Today, my grandmother is facing memory loss. She sometimes repeats herself, and it’s harder for her to hold some of the more complex conversations we used to share when I lived with her as a teen. But she still asks about me. She still wants to know when I’ll visit. The memory of her beloved presence reminds me to be present—to slow down and stay in the moment.

This weekend, I made a conscious decision to do things that tether me to now: going to local events with friends, spending time with loved ones and cuddling my cat when he clearly just wanted attention. These little pauses keep me connected and grounded.

(Video: Oaklash Drag Festival in Oakland this weekend)

We have to remember: this whole idea of “working extra hard” is especially harmful to working-class people. Our communities have always worked hard. On my father’s side, we’re descendants of enslaved people, people whose labor built the wealth of the British Empire. And yet, that backbreaking work didn’t necessarily lead to economic freedom or justice or changed material conditions. Instead it often resulted in families facing severe mental health challenges, early death and fractured familial ties. There’s a joke that Jamaicans always have five jobs. But what if we’re addicted to working because if we stopped to look around, we’d realize our life is passing us by?

So we need to stop glorifying the hustle, specifically when it is devoid of strategy.

We need to stop being addicted to work for work’s sake.

Instead, let’s ask better questions:
How can we work in ways that sustain our mind, body, and spirit?
How can we strategize to be effective, not just now, but for the long haul?

We need clarity.
We need boundaries.
We need presence.
We need each other.

And most of all—we need a new playbook. Are you ready to write one with me?