Soul Weariness
A Recipe for When You're Existentially Exhausted
The other night, I was puttering around my house and complained to my husband, “I am just so exhausted.”
He shrugged and said “Then go to sleep!”
“No” I replied, he wasn’t getting it. “I’m existentially exhausted.”
It’s a different kind of tired. Not just physical fatigue, but a whole season of emotional and spiritual heaviness, like something has been quietly pressing on the soul.
Maybe you’re feeling this too.
It could be a sense of overwhelm due to an increased workload or the never-ending burden of caring for family members. It may be a feeling of helplessness at another heartbreaking headline. It could also be the upcoming holiday season and the grief that can resurface during this time. Sometimes it’s simply the accumulation of “one more thing” stacked on “one more thing” until the weight becomes too much.
Whatever the circumstance, the term might be the same - “soul weariness”
Defining Soul Weariness
Soul Weariness is a deep emotional and spiritual exhaustion. All your internal resources have been depleted and you aren’t sure how to revive yourself. It is a fatigue we may feel in our bones. It might feel like our minds and hearts are foggy. Or as if we are moving through molasses. Every day, difficulties that we normally take in stride have a much greater impact on us. It seems like we are spiritually stagnant.
It’s not something that one good night of sleep will fix. Or a vacation.
I’ve reviewed the research and nothing delves into this state of soulhood. The closest mental health cousin of soul weariness is probably the concept of “languishing.” Psychcentral.com has this description of languishing:
You feel different lately. You’re not exactly sad or distressed, but you couldn’t describe yourself as thriving either. You’re just feeling… “blah.”
A spiritual “blah-ness” sounds about right.
I’ve written before about “The Dark Night of the Soul” which is the phenomenon of intense spiritual despair. Sometimes soul weariness can be a precursor to a Dark Night, but it can just exist on its own. Soul weariness is hard to wade through, but it’s not as earth-shattering as those dark nights can be. Soul weariness is quieter and less dramatic, but it still colors our days and saps our motivation.
Some signs of soul weariness include:
Monotony: Feeling as though you are just “getting through” each day
Grim outlook: Focusing on the negative, not as attuned to signs of hope
Helplessness: Thinking nothing you do can make an impact
Emptiness: Not feeling a sense of wholeness, centeredness or connection
If this sounds familiar, the poem at the end of this post might offer comfort. A few of John O’Donohue’s lines have resonated with me and my spiritual directees. I’ve adapted them into a kind of gentle treatment plan for soul weariness. This spiritual slump may go away on its own. But if you’re tired of your soul being tired, then here is a recipe that might bring some energy.
A Recipe for When Your Soul is Weary
“Take Refuge in Your Senses”
I have a friend who reminds me that the best thing to do when you’re feeling stressed is to “touch grass.” Despite enjoying nature, I’m not one to walk around barefoot, but I can appreciate why that is her go-to. I also have another friend who loves fragrances, whether they are fancy French perfumes or essential oils. This time of year, I do enjoy burning pumpkin-scented candles. Coming back to our senses can ground us and help us be more present in the moment.
How might you engage your senses during this time?
For a coping activity that uses your senses, read this:
“Be Excessively Gentle with Yourself”
This is one of my favorite lines that has been rattling around my mind since the first time I read it. I love how it’s both a mandate and an invitation. This could look different for everyone, but I suspect most of us could benefit from talking to ourselves more tenderly. My inner dialogue is worse than anything I’d say to another human being. If you have someone in your life who embodies that compassionate, nurturing voice, I suggest imagining what that person would say to you - and maybe even saying it to yourself aloud.
What does being excessively gentle with yourself look like?
For more on self-compassion, read this:
“Open yourself up to the Small Miracles”
One day, when I am less soul weary, I will write a whole post about miracles. As a hospital chaplain, I have many thoughts about them! For now, a simple practice is identifying small signs of hope or moments of joy. In my house, we sometimes ask the Rose and Thorn question at the end of the day": What was a hard part about your day (the thorn)? What was the best part of your day (the rose)? When life feels thorny, it can help to intentionally look for the rose.
What is your rose for today?
For more on cultivating joy, read this:
“Draw Alongside Silence”
My two-hour commute to the hospital is generally filled with phone calls, podcasts and audiobooks. One of the ways I know I am soul weary is when I wind up driving in silence. My head is too full and I can’t handle any more information. I require quiet to help transition through parts of my day. Silence can be a rare gift we give ourselves when the world around us is full of noise. It helps us be with our thoughts and return to our core.
What are you hearing when everything else is quiet?
For more on the power of silence, read this:
“Let Unwept Tears Flow”
When I am soul weary, tears often feel close by. If we allow ourselves to go there, crying can be a cathartic experience. While it can be scary if we don’t know the origin of our waterworks, the physical act of crying can help us release whatever has been building up. I had a student whose first language translated crying into “dropping tears,” and I love this image, because sometimes crying feels like dropping the burdens we have been carrying. Have you ever thought to yourself, “I don’t even know why I’m crying over this?” That might be a sign that you were holding a lot in. Crying is a way of letting go.
What can you drop as tears today?
For more on the importance of crying, read this:
Moving from Weariness to Revitalization
“Every season is one of becoming, but not always one of blooming. Be gracious with your ever-evolving self.” — B. Oakman
Even with this recipe, it might take a while for your soul to get the rest it needs. When we know we are depleted, we want a quicker refill - but that’s not how our spirits work. It took a lot of cumulative time to wear us down, so too will it take some time to regain our energy again.
It helps to remember this is a temporary season. The weariness is not the end of the story.
Some of you know that I live on a hobby farm and hate winter. It is dark, cold and there’s no life shooting up from the ground. However, there is much going on below the surface of the ground that I cannot see. So, even if my land is not thriving in my eyes, I take solace in knowing that in the next season, there will be revitalization, growth, and beauty again. And I may even appreciate it more, having endured the fallow season.
May your weary soul get the rest it needs to bloom again in due time.
“For One Who Is Exhausted, a Blessing”
by John O’Donohue
When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight.
The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.
Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.
The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.
You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the race of days.
At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.
You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.
Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.
Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.
Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.
Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.
So grateful for your words right now. You are definitely not alone. ❤️
I really needed this. Thank you.