Why are we so tired?
There are a few easy answers right now. It’s May, and if you have kids, you know. The end-of-year events, the graduation parties, the last-minute everything, the anticipation of summer. May has a way of asking more of us than we planned to give.
But I don’t think May is the real problem, it’s just a VERY loud version of it.
We tell ourselves we just need the next break, the next long weekend (like this one), the next *slower* season. Once we get there, we’ll finally feel better.
And sometimes we do… briefly.
But then the inbox fills back up, the calendar feels jam packed again, and we’re left wondering why the relief didn’t last.
Rest and time away matter, there’s no doubt. But I don’t think that’s where the real problem lives. I think it’s in how we’re showing up when we are on.
Somewhere along the way, we inherited the idea that our worth is measured by our output, and most of us have never really stopped to question it.
Before the Industrial Revolution, work followed more natural rhythms: seasons, harvests, daylight. Life moved in cycles more connected to what needed to be done than to the clock itself.
Then factories changed that relationship entirely. Machines could run nearly continuously, and people were expected to keep pace. Industrialization fundamentally changed how ordinary people experienced time. It was the first time in human history that the clock, not the task, governed the day. There were standardized hours, shift whistles, and output quotas.
Time became something to measure and maximize.
That mindset got passed down – and most of us absorbed it without ever being asked if we agreed.
We feel guilty when we rest, confuse busyness with value, and treat margin like a luxury instead of something essential.
That’s why a few days away can help, but the exhaustion always comes back.
As Carey Nieuwhof said, “Time off won’t heal you when the problem is how you spend your time on.”
I’ve found this is rarely just a calendar problem, more often, it’s a belief problem.
There’s usually a script running underneath the pace:
“This is just how life has to be right now.”
“I don’t really have a choice.”
“If I slow down, something important will fall apart.”
“Busy means I’m doing enough.”
“Rest can come later.”
Do any of these sound familiar?
As long as those beliefs stay unchallenged, nothing changes for long.
The good news?
We usually have more agency than we realize. Even inside real constraints – of which there are MANY in May – we still have choices about boundaries, priorities, attention, and what gets to matter most.
So as you head into the long Memorial Day weekend, maybe you can pause long enough to ask these questions:
What is actually making me tired right now?
Not just physically tired, but also mentally and emotionally. Is it overcommitment? Decision fatigue? Constant context-switching? Sometimes we think we’re exhausted because we’re doing too much, when really we’re doing too much of what drains us.
Where am I saying yes too often?
Every yes costs something, whether it’s time, energy, attention, or presence. Where have your automatic yeses become more expensive than you realized?
Where am I out of alignment?
Sometimes what once fit us simply doesn’t anymore. Maybe it’s a routine or an expectation or even an old definition of success. Growth often begins when we stop forcing ourselves to carry what no longer fits who we’re becoming.
What do I believe about productivity, worth, and rest?
Many of us are living from beliefs we never consciously chose: that productivity equals value, that slowing down means failure, that rest has to be earned. But our beliefs shape our behavior. If the belief is unhealthy, the pace usually will be too.
What is one small change I could make next week?
It’s ok to start small. A boundary or a conversation, thirty minutes of margin, logging off earlier, saying NO. Protecting what matters in one concrete way.
We don’t build a better relationship with time in some future perfect season.
We build it in small decisions, practiced in the life we’re living now.
The long weekend ahead is a gift. I hope you actually receive it, as both a break from the pace AND as a chance to get genuinely curious about your time, both off and on.
Time is sacred. And the way we spend it becomes the way we live.
If any of this is sitting with you, that’s worth paying attention to. That’s what we do in coaching, we slow down long enough to find out what’s actually going on.