It’s so easy to get burned out. In life, in work, in relationships—and especially in recovery. When I first got clean, one of the most important things I needed to hear—something I still return to often—was: “One day at a time.” Trying to think about a lifetime of doing anything consistently, especially something as difficult as staying clean, can feel daunting. Overwhelming. Impossible. But that phrase gave me permission to focus on now. To shrink my goals into something manageable. Bite-sized. Human.
And the truth is, I was doing something consistently in my addiction. I was showing up for my high every day without fail. But recovery—the part that requires effort and challenge—is a different kind of repetition. A harder one. And it can wear you down. That’s where burnout lives. In the long-haul effort. In the moments when the fire goes out and the reasons you started start to fade.
The Power of Recommitment
One of the most healing ideas I’ve adopted in recovery—and in life with my wife and my kids—is the concept of the do-over. We’re constantly having do-overs in our home. And it’s powerful because it acknowledges our humanity. Our imperfection. Our ability to start again. You don’t have to relapse to begin a new chapter in your recovery. But if you have relapsed, that doesn’t define you either. In fact, for many people I know—including those I’ve walked this path with—relapse has been a catalyst for deeper, more honest recovery. Sometimes burnout isn’t about failing. It’s about getting stuck in routines that no longer serve you. And often, it doesn’t take a full reset—just a few small, intentional shifts to breathe life back into the process.
Small Changes, Big Shifts
Recently, I recommitted to my morning routine. Nothing huge—just a simplified version that works with my life as a father, husband, artist, and business owner. Here’s what it looks like:
- 5-minute meditation
- 5 minutes of gratitude journaling
- A short prayer—I like to use the Saint Francis prayer
- Some movement or a short walk when I can
Later in the day, I’ve carved out time to connect with my wife over lunch. I’ll take a 20-minute walk, come home, and eat with her. Bookending the day with presence—starting with stillness, ending with gratitude—anchors me. It’s not about perfection. It’s about rhythm.
When Motivation Fades, Habits Step In
Motivation feels great when it’s there. When I’m lit up, inspired, bursting with clarity—that’s a gift. But the deeper I go in recovery, the more I’ve realized that motivation can’t be the engine. It’s not sustainable. It’s fleeting. What is sustainable are the daily micro-habits that carry me through the uninspired moments. These small, repeatable actions are like spiritual savings deposits. When life cashes a check I didn’t see coming, I’ve got something in the bank.
Connection: The Antidote to Isolation
One of the most important habits for me—especially when I feel like isolating—is picking up the phone. When the desire to withdraw kicks in, there’s nothing heavier than the phone. It can feel like it weighs ten thousand pounds. But when I do pick it up—when I call someone in recovery, even just to leave a message—it lifts the weight. It pokes a hole in the illusion of disconnection. It reminds me I’m not alone.
Addiction thrives in isolation. Recovery blooms in connection.
So I try to make one call a day to someone in the program. It doesn’t have to be long or deep. Just the act of reaching out nourishes something in me that addiction tried to starve. And funny enough—the very thing I dread (talking, sharing, being vulnerable) almost always becomes the thing that saves me.
Final Thought: Don’t Quit Before the Miracle
Burnout is not the end of the road. It’s a signal. A moment to pause, reflect, and recommit. You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to feel inspired. You just need to keep going—one small, honest action at a time.
One day at a time still works.