I’m tired, not “burned out” – I love my work, my family, and friends. I engage in activities that help me feel good. As I’ve reflected on what might be contributing to my fatigue, I’m reminded of two periods in my life.

When I was a little girl, I couldn’t watch movies or TV shows that showed any harm coming to animals or children. I felt them so viscerally, I just had to avoid them in the first place as they repeated in my mind for days and weeks. Later, as the mother of two young children, an administrator at Iowa, and a primary caregiver for my mother who was enduring a horrible seven-year journey through Alzheimer’s, I felt racked with guilt in all directions. I recall dissolving into relieved sobs one day when my aunt told me that my mom would want me to be focused on my two boys without guilt.

What I think I’m feeling, and what many of us have felt over the past few years, is referred to as compassion fatigue. Compassion fatigue is the trauma that one can experience from caring for others or vicariously experiencing their trauma or loss. This phenomenon has been discussed frequently in the context of health care workers who have worked tirelessly throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, often seeing tragedy unfold before their eyes on a scale not previously experienced. But it can also impact those of us outside health care. Especially over the past two years, we have cared for and supported students, friends, families, and colleagues as we have navigated the difficulty, loss, ambiguity, and upheaval associated with COVID-19, politics, violence, war, and racial reckoning. We have consumed news feeds of tragedy after tragedy, along with far too many Tik Toks. It is difficult to detach and simply live our lives as though we are in a self-contained bubble, because we aren’t.

I’m still learning what it means to manage compassion fatigue in my life. But I know that it is a valuable exercise to explore. And I’ve found a few things that help—let’s call them small wins.

Manage energy: Think about which aspects of your life, week, or day are energy giving and which are energy draining. To the extent that I can, I pay attention to my weekly schedule and think about adding energy giving activities where I can, especially in a week full of energy draining activities. Things like mix and mingle receptions or facilitating a long meeting are energy draining for me, so I sprinkle in re-energizing activities like pickleball with friends, 1:1 meetings with my staff, time with students, and volunteering at the Iowa Farm Sanctuary.

Think about what you are uniquely positioned to do: We do many things at work and in life that may or may not need us to be the “doer.” There are tasks that I can do and some tasks I must do. Someone else might be better for a certain task, project, or event than me. I try to position my staff and myself to make our unique contributions where they are most impactful. This also enables each of us to remove the pressure to be everywhere and doing everything all the time—a recipe for exhaustion and frustration.

Confront the brutal truth about control: There is a leadership book, “Good to Great,” that notes the need for leaders to confront the brutal truth of their situation. In this context, I remind myself of the brutal truth about control, which is that in many aspects of life, control is an illusion. This is not to say that we have no control over our lives and our choices. But, control has limits.

When I was learning meditation, my teacher talked about “affectionate detachment,” which is understanding that I can care passionately and I can put effort into something, but that effort and passion do not necessarily mean I can control the outcome or circumstances. Another way to say this is that I can do all the right things and the wrong things can still happen. I don’t think of this idea as discouraging as much as freeing. Detachment can help me not be as enamored with my own ideas—it can help me see things with fresh eyes and hear other viewpoints without constantly checking them against my own. And it enables me to remember that I can have compassion without thinking I have magical powers to make hurt go away. Here is a great article on detachment that I find helpful.

Consume cautiously: It turns out my childhood self was pretty darn smart. As an adult, I make conscious decisions about what media I consume, knowing it contributes to compassion fatigue. I left Facebook nearly 10 years ago, I watch cooking shows rather than crime documentaries, and I seek out stories that inspire all while still being aware of the news and my commitments to positive social action. These are my personal decisions about what gives me energy. Yours may be different, but we can be conscious consumers vs. endless scrollers.

Be realistic about balance: There’s so much talk about work-life balance these days. I practice yoga and, if you are able, I invite you to stand on one foot with me for a minute. Are you perfectly still and balanced? My body is constantly in motion trying to maintain balance—it is fleeting. It takes concentration and effort. And the journey of trying occurs often enough to help me feel a sense of accomplishment. Perfect doesn’t exist in yoga life, nor in work-life, or life-life.

And I’m finding I’m more OK than ever with that.

Cover photo by Aziz Acharki on Unsplash