I have not been to a board meeting in a while.
I mean, I've been there. Physically present, name on the roster, technically in attendance. But if you asked me what we decided last month I would have to check my notes, and if you asked me what I contributed I would tell you I said "agreed" at least twice while shoulder shrugging off camera.
I'm burned out. Not in a dramatic, press-release way. In a quiet, I-need-to-stop-adding-things-to-my-plate way. The kind of burned out where you're still functioning, still showing up, still a perfectly reasonable person to have on a board. But you are running on fumes. And because you are a high achiever, no one around you can actually tell. You are phoning it in at a level most people would consider fully present.
So I stepped back from the big stuff. And what I've been doing instead is solving for the small things that I can control. These are the kinds of things that don't require a motion or a second or a vote or a follow-up email chain with seven people who all have opinions.
The other day I threw my earbuds in, walked out to the median on our street, and knocked down the three-foot weeds that had been annoying the hell out of me every time I pulled out of my driveway. Could I have called our city council rep and asked when the median was scheduled to be serviced? Sure. Was I tired of looking at them and decided to just say forget it, I'll do it myself? Yes.
Nothing that a good audiobook and some pruning shears couldn't handle. Done in minutes.
I forgot how good that feels. The clean beginning and end of a small thing. And honestly, a perfect reminder of what brought me to board work in the first place. Seeing something annoying and wanting to fix it. Not bringing it to a board meeting, getting it put on the next board meeting agenda, having a twenty minute conversation about weeds. Just fixing it.
Small things add up. And honestly, there's something satisfying about fixing things quietly without all of the pomp and circumstance. Neighborhood vigilante is not the worst thing I've been called.
- LP
Emotionally Available for Exactly One Thing at a Time
