Why is everyone so tired right now? Not sleepy, world tired. Too much is changing too fast, our minds never come with an off switch, and we stay busy so we don't have to feel it.
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Ask almost anyone how they are this week and listen to the first word. Tired. More than seven in ten American adults feel very tired or exhausted at least some days, and nine in ten adults in Britain felt high stress or pressure in the past year. Alvin Toffler saw it coming in 1970, before phones in our pockets and news all day long. Your body can be on the sofa while your mind is still on its feet, keeping watch. Busy works like a painkiller, so the moment we stop, it all arrives at once. We can't slow the world down, so I talk about a word I don't think I've ever used on this podcast. Awe. When we feel small in a good way, our worries get smaller too. Months after I broke my neck, they pushed me outside for fifteen minutes. All I could see was a car park, but the cold air on my lungs, wow. I went back to bed and slept for 24 hours.
One thing to try: This week, spend one minute with something bigger than you. The sky, the sea, an old tree, or the dust dancing in a patch of sunlight. Don't name it, don't fix it. Just look, and let it be big.
In this episode
- (0:00) Ask anyone how they are, and the first word is tired
- (2:23) Alvin Toffler's Future Shock, written in 1970
- (3:58) Your body's on the sofa, your mind's still on its feet
- (4:56) Being busy works like a painkiller
- (7:03) The word I've never used on this podcast: awe
- (9:06) Months on a ward, then fifteen minutes in a car park
- (12:24) The one minute practice
- (14:08) Marcus Aurelius: is this necessary?
With gratitude to
Kasia, Jane, Christine, Danielle, Lindsey, Katherine, Vicki, Fiona, Rebecca and Lorna. A warm welcome to Raquel and Jane, my newest monthly supporters, and thank you to Jenna and Mia for raising theirs.
The companion meditation: Wisdom Within the Storm: A Meditation for Chaotic Times
Support the podcast and join the Weekly Calm: stevenwebb.uk
Thank you for listening.
Steven
The question this answers
Why is everyone so tired right now, even after a good night's sleep?
Ask almost anyone how they are this week, and listen to the first word they say. Most people I've spoken to have said tired. Not sleepy. World tired. The kind a night's sleep doesn't even touch.
You're not imagining it. More than seven in ten American adults told the CDC they'd felt very tired or exhausted at least some days in the last three months. Here in Britain, Mental Health UK found nine in ten adults had felt high stress or extreme pressure in the past year.
Some tiredness is the body. Illness, pain, poor sleep, looking after someone, grief. That's real, and if you've been worn out for weeks, please go and see a doctor. This is about the extra tiredness the world piles on top. It's part two of A Tired World. Part one was about the news.
The heart of it
- You can be worn out sitting still. Your body's on the sofa, but your mind is still on its feet, keeping watch.
- When we feel small in a good way, our worries get smaller too. They don't vanish, but they stop filling the whole room.
In 1970, before I was born, Alvin Toffler wrote a book called Future Shock. When things change too much, too quickly, he said, people get worn out. That was before phones in our pockets. Now it's prices, work, computers that talk back to you, strange weather, angry politics, then your own bills and the ten jobs on your list. Any one of those we could cope with. All of them, all at once, all year, is a lot.
We're all spending our lives on catch up. Somebody asks what I'm doing at the weekend, and I say I've got a quiet one. Catching up on emails. That's my quiet weekend.
I've talked about rest a lot this year, and rest matters. This time I want to use a word I don't think I've ever used on this podcast. Awe. The feeling when something is so big, or so beautiful, or so good, that you stop and stare, and feel small in a good way.
Dacher Keltner collected 2,600 stories of awe from people in 26 countries. The most common source wasn't mountains or sunsets. It was other people, their kindness and their courage. In a 2020 study in America, sixty older adults took a fifteen minute walk once a week for eight weeks, looking for things that filled them with wonder. They felt more joy and less everyday worry, and in their selfies they took up less of the picture and smiled more. It was a small study, and I'm not saying it's magic. I think it's telling us something.
When I broke my neck, I spent months indoors. The same ceiling, the same ward, no fresh air at all. The first time I was allowed out of bed, for fifteen minutes, they pushed me outside. It was really cold, and all I could see was a car park. But the cold air on my lungs. Wow. The worries about being paralysed for the rest of my life, about never walking, all vanished. I went back to bed and slept for 24 hours. It was the first time I'd truly relaxed in months. It was only a car park, but the air was crisp and the sky was blue, and that was enough.
Sometimes the big world is the very thing that makes our worries small enough to carry.
Nearly 2,000 years ago, Marcus Aurelius noted to himself that most of what we say and do isn't essential. If you pick up his Meditations, get the Gregory Hays translation. It makes it so much easier.
Ask yourself at every moment, "Is this necessary?"
Marcus Aurelius
He wasn't saying stop, or do less. He was saying do it better. We can't slow the world down, but we can choose what gets our attention.
One small thing to try
One minute, and you can do it today. Pick one thing that's bigger than you, or older. The sky, the sea, an old tree. Can't get out? Look out of a window, or watch the dust dancing in a patch of sunlight.
Then just look. Don't name it, don't fix it. Notice how small you feel next to it, and ask what this week's worries look like compared to this. They might not shrink straight away. In time, they will.
Tell me the last thing that made you stop and stare. I always read them all. And if you'd like some company with this, the meditation that goes with this one is Wisdom Within the Storm, on Inner Peace Meditations.
Questions people ask
Why am I so tired when I haven't done anything?
You don't have to be rushing about to be worn out. Your mind can spend all day checking the road ahead, asking what's next and what if it goes wrong. That watching never clocks off, and it's tiring even when you're sitting still.
Why do I feel worse when I finally stop?
Being busy works a bit like a painkiller. While we rush about, we can't feel how tired we are. Then we stop, and it all arrives at once. So we don't dare stop, in case it all piles up behind us.
How can awe help a tired mind?
When you feel small in a good way, your worries get smaller too. It isn't about feeling insignificant. It's seeing the big picture, beyond the politics and the bickering and your little to do list. The worries don't vanish, but for a moment they stop filling the whole room.
Do I have to go somewhere beautiful to feel awe?
No. A patch of sunlight with dust floating in it will do, or a butterfly landing, or a wave breaking. So will a neighbour carrying someone's shopping, or a stranger holding a door. We don't have to climb anything. We just have to notice.
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