Even Good Things Become Heavy

I’ve had a rough time lately.

Not because things are bad—

but because there is so much.

I’ve added a lot to my plate, and all of it is meaningful.

Art and writing.

Community service.

Creative expression that feels like oxygen.

These are the things that feed my soul.

And yet—layered on top of work deadlines, holiday expectations, disrupted routines, and time off that never quite feels like rest—I’m struggling to balance it all.

Mentally, I’m exhausted.

I notice myself checking out.

My focus drifts.

My thoughts feel foggy and scattered, like too many browser tabs open at once.

I want to be fully present—for my work, for the people I care about, for the causes I believe in—but lately I feel stretched thin, unable to give everything and everyone the attention I think I should.

And the hardest truth to admit?

I’m not giving myself the attention I need.

There’s a quiet pressure that comes with doing things you love.

A belief that because it’s meaningful, it shouldn’t feel heavy.

That gratitude should cancel out exhaustion.

But even good things take energy.

Even soul-aligned work requires tending to the body and mind carrying it.

So this is me pausing.

Naming the weight without judgment.

Letting go of the idea that I have to hold everything perfectly.

Crow & Flame has always been about honoring the whole truth—

the fire of creation and the need for rest,

the urge to give and the necessity of receiving.

Maybe this season isn’t about doing more.

Maybe it’s about doing less—more slowly, more intentionally, with more compassion.

If you’re feeling this too—overwhelmed by blessings, tired from carrying too much, quietly running on empty—know this:

You’re not failing.

You’re human.

And rest is not a reward you earn—it’s a requirement.

For now, I’m choosing to tend the flame instead of feeding the fire.

That’s enough.