Being Here – Day 59
Being Here – Poem Day 59
Day 59 — When I don’t feel able to give (Reflecting)
Yesterday’s poem worked directly with exhaustion —
honouring rested care rather than forced giving.
Today’s poem stays closer to the inner experience of that quiet.
There are moments when the instinct to help feels muted.
When empathy does not rise in the way it once did.
When stepping back feels easier than stepping in.
This can be confusing.
Especially if care has long been part of how you understand yourself.
From the outside, it may look like withdrawal.
From the inside, it can feel like depletion.
Or numbness.
Or simply having reached a limit.
Not feeling able to give is not necessarily indifference. It may reflect a system that has carried more than it could sustain.
Today’s poem does not ask for recovery.
It does not urge generosity.
It does not frame rest as something to overcome.
It simply names the experience.
Pause.
If anything lingers after listening, you might try one small thing — only if it feels helpful.
Let your feet rest fully on the floor for a moment.
Nothing else is required.
Warmly,
Per
Poem 59 – When I don’t feel able to give – Reflecting
There are times when the capacity to care feels distant. Not gone, but unreachable.
The wish to help may still be there in theory, yet the energy to respond doesn’t follow. What once felt natural now feels heavy.
This can be confusing. Especially for those who are used to being available, attentive, responsive to others’ needs.
The mind may search for explanations. Am I burned out? Have I become selfish? Why does giving feel so difficult now?
Often, what’s present is not lack of care, but depletion. A long period of offering without enough space to recover.
Care does not disappear when it pauses. It retreats when there is nowhere left to land. When rest has been postponed too long. When giving has outpaced receiving.
In these moments, stepping back can feel like loss of identity. If I’m not helping, who am I?
But the capacity to give has its own rhythm. It cannot be demanded back into place.
Recognising this doesn’t restore energy. It doesn’t make care immediately available again.
It simply allows the experience of not being able to give to be seen without blame, as part of how caregiving naturally ebbs and flows.
