What My Coffee Mug Taught Me About Burnout

Every morning starts the same. I pour the coffee, wrap my hands around the mug, and tell myself I’ll just sit for a minute before the day begins. But somehow, that minute never feels long enough. Before the cup is even half empty, my mind has already moved on to the list, emails to answer, calls to make, appointments to confirm, and meals to plan.

One morning last fall, I noticed something small. The mug was chipped on the handle, right where my thumb always rested. It had probably been that way for weeks, but I hadn’t seen it. I just kept drinking, rushing, repeating.

That tiny crack stopped me. Because that’s what caregiving can feel like, doing everything right, holding everything together, until you finally notice the small fracture that’s been there all along. The chipped mug, the racing mind, the exhaustion that doesn’t go away after one good night’s sleep.

I realized the mug still worked just fine, but it wasn’t the same. It needed care too, just like I did.

So that morning, I put it down gently and took a breath before refilling it. I didn’t need to fix anything right away. I just needed to notice.

Lesson:
Sometimes burnout doesn’t roar; it whispers. It shows up in the tiny cracks we overlook while taking care of everyone else. The work, the family, the holidays, they’ll all keep moving. But your own care begins the moment you stop long enough to see the chip and choose to pause.