Is your soul weary?

By soul-weary, I mean a place where hope and gratitude feel hard to reach—or you don’t even have the desire to reach for them. You’re tired from how long the road has been. Your heart may feel heavy. Your body may feel heavy.

It doesn’t necessarily mean you feel hopeless (though you might). It means it feels hard to lift your head to look ahead—and even harder to imagine taking the next step.

I believe there’s a spectrum to the soul-weary experience—both in how we feel it and in whether we’re available to notice it.

For some people, soul-weariness is buried beneath busyness: hustling for worthiness, distraction, addiction. Often, the intensity of the busyness mirrors the depth of the weariness underneath.

Soul-weary can look or feel like:

• Wondering if you’re actually changing or growing
• Feeling like you can’t read another personal growth book or listen to one more podcast
• Feeling alone and having difficulty reaching out
• Finding joy or happiness around you intolerable
• Feeling shut down, numb, or indifferent
• Feeling sad about being shut down, numb, or indifferent
• Feeling tired—way down inside

Soul-weariness isn’t the same as depression or hopelessness. When I was deep in the healing work around my childhood trauma, soul-weary was the best language I had for my felt experience.

Over time, I learned that this feeling wasn’t a sign that something was wrong. It was an acknowledgment that I was doing deep, soul-level work—and sometimes that work is tiring.

I also see this in my work with clients.

So what do you do when things feel this way?

The first and most important thing is to remember this: there is a glimmer inside you. It may feel like light, hope, strength, curiosity—it shows up differently for each of us—but it’s there.

I believe this because there is a foundational kernel of humanity in all of us. At our core, we have the capacity to engage with the full human experience. Part of that experience includes times of soul-weariness. Another part includes compassion, curiosity, a desire for connection, openness to beauty, and an availability for joy.

I really believe that.

So, I want to offer a gentle invitation: connect with the glimmer. Here are a few ways to do that.

Recognize your soul-weariness

What is your experience like, specifically?

Maybe you can’t muster the energy to pick up your journal. Maybe it feels like your grief will never end. Maybe you wonder if therapy will ever be done—or if it’s even worth it. Maybe you realize it’s been a long time since you felt any lightness in your spirit.

You might even find that soul-weary isn’t quite the right word. Whatever language fits, name it. Be in reality about it. Let it be without rushing past it.

Create space for quiet

First, notice how you feel about the idea of quiet. If it feels uncomfortable, be curious about that. It’s better to be honest with yourself than to force quiet moments you’re not actually present for.

Most of us are busy—sometimes by necessity, sometimes by design, often both. Quiet can feel unrealistic.

Some of you may be thinking, “I need to put out fires at work, drive my child to practice, remember what I need at the store, try to figure out what to feed my family, support the members of my team – how in the heck do you expect me to create space for quiet?!” If this is you, don’t dismiss this altogether – quiet doesn’t have to be big.

If you do have larger stretches of time for reflection, meditation, or rest, that’s a gift and I encourage you to take advantage of it.

Incorporating some quiet might look like:

• Not listening to anything while commuting
• Waking up 10 minutes earlier to sit quietly before the day begins
• Closing your office door for five minutes and taking a few deep breaths
• Taking a short walk and noticing what’s around you
• Simply staying alert to small, quiet moments as they naturally appear

Be curious about what you notice

Whether your quiet space is five minutes or longer, notice what happens.

Pay attention to your body. Do you breathe more deeply, or hold your breath? Do you notice tension or other sensations?

Notice your thoughts. Are they distracting, critical, surprising? Notice if any emotions come up. Maybe there’s some sadness, gratitude or feelings of love.

The invitation here is not to change anything. Just notice, without judgment.

Stay available to the glimmer

Staying available to the glimmer means staying in reality. Soul-weary is rarely the whole story—although some days it sure feels like it.

Your glimmer may not look the way you think it “should.” It might be very small:

• Your pet making you laugh
• Your child handing you a drawing
• A piece of music that moves you
• A feeling of lightness when the sun hits your face
• Watching your child delight in something they love
• Offering someone a smile or a small kindness

Even the smallest glimmer can remind you that soul-weariness isn’t all that you are—or all that you experience.

If you’re feeling soul-weary, I want you to know that you are seen. This isn’t a sign that you’re doing something wrong. There’s nothing to fix.

It means you’re human—having an experience that sometimes comes with deep healing work, with the weight of the world, or with both.

Honor the weariness of your soul, and stay gently tuned to the glimmer inside you.