Being Here – Day 60
Being Here – Poem Day 60
Day 60 — When I don’t feel able to give (Noticing)
Earlier in this sequence, we worked with exhaustion directly —
honouring rested care rather than forcing generosity.
Yesterday, we stayed close to the inner experience of withdrawal.
Today’s poem steps outward.
Compassion fatigue does not develop in isolation.
In many environments, demand outpaces capacity.
Roles multiply without pause.
Crisis becomes continuous.
Resources thin.
Where urgency is sustained and recovery is limited,
responsiveness may narrow.
This does not necessarily signal indifference.
It may reflect structural strain.
Care requires margin —
of time,
of energy,
of safety.
When margin is reduced,
withdrawal can follow.
Today’s poem does not ask for renewal.
It does not encourage generosity.
It simply places caregiving fatigue
within the broader systems
where responsibility often exceeds what is sustainable.
Pause.
If anything lingers after listening, you might try one small thing — only if it feels helpful.
Let your gaze rest on something that is not asking anything of you.
Nothing else is required.
Warmly,
Per
Poem 60 – When I don’t feel able to give – Noticing
Care is often treated as an endless resource. Those who give are expected to keep giving. Limits are rarely discussed until they are reached.
In many roles, stepping back is not clearly supported. Rest is allowed only after exhaustion. Pauses are justified rather than assumed.
Systems frequently depend on personal care to fill gaps in structure, time, and support. When that care falters, the strain becomes visible.
In such conditions, withdrawal is not surprising. It is often the only remaining signal that something has been overextended.
Compassion fatigue is not a lack of heart. It reflects prolonged exposure to need without sufficient recovery. To giving without adequate receiving.
Modern life compounds this. Crises overlap. Demands accumulate. There is little space between one call for care and the next.
Seen this way, not feeling able to give is not a personal failing. It reflects environments that do not reliably protect those who care.
Noticing this doesn’t restore capacity. It doesn’t demand resilience.
It simply places the experience within the realities that shape it, where stepping back may be the most reasonable response to having given for too long without rest.
