Third sector burnout: How can we build sustainable services and treat helping professionals as people first?

I’ve recently been spending a lot of time in charity sector spaces where professionals are at their edges, resources are strained, and there are increasing divides between leadership and frontline staff who are being asked to stretch caseloads and boundaries to breaking point. Words and phrases like ‘burnout’, ‘dehumanising’ and ‘taken for granted’ abound in discussions with tired and disappointed helping professionals. The picture might look bleak for some right now, but there are still choices to be made and opportunities to take space to re-imagine how we can work together in a challenging socioeconomic climate to bring about more sustainable, meaningful change for service users and the workforce alike.

Charities and not-for-profits being asked to do more with less isn’t a new phenomenon, but challenges seem to have intensified in recent years, and a crucial aspect of how this plays out is the way that those in the driving seat choose to allocate resources and how they see and communicate with their staff. The typical vicious cycle at the intersection of workplace wellbeing and funding/resource issues is an effect of trying to deliver the same level of service or respond to increasing need with fewer resources… Staff are expected to take on more direct work with service users, whether this means building up overtime (which should be taken back as Time Off in Lieu, if only they could find a time to take it back) or attempting to squeeze more work into their regular hours. And most often, they will do their best to make this happen, because they have undertaken this emotionally costly, challenging and often poorly paid work due to dedication to a cause and a desire to help. But this is an unsustainable way to work for most people, and the vicious cycle kicks in when staff burn out and need to take time off work to recover. Understaffing as a result of this puts additional strain on the service and the workforce left to cover the gaps, and there’s a risk of developing a revolving door of new, passionate and energetic workers coming on board, rolling up their sleeves, working hard beyond their hours and burning out, only to be replaced with the next person willing to take on the challenge.

Dedicated service managers might experience a similar phenomenon, as the need for additional support of their teams increases, and the gaps in service provisions have to be covered. This tends to have a demonstrably negative impact on vulnerable service users, who need consistency and time to build trusting relationships with the professionals supporting them. That seems to offer good enough leverage to encourage decision makers to address the issue, since providing services that have a positive impact on their beneficiaries’ lives is the purpose of most third sector organisations. And this purpose is compromised when the wellbeing and humanity of the workforce is discounted, given the impact on service delivery. It feels uncomfortably utilitarian to point out that workplaces should value and support their staff on the basis that people are their most valuable resource. While that may be true, there’s also a question of values at play here – if organisations aim to provide person-centred support and trauma-informed practice, and to value people seen as experts by experience, what might prevent them from responding well when their staff express feelings of not being heard, valued or supported?

An astute colleague and mentor recently summed the situation up as a reliance on the third sector mentality of saying yes where everyone else has said no. Charitable organisations tend to exist to plug the gaps left by systems and governments that are failing to adequately support their people, hence the culture of needing to find a way to make things work, since our ‘no’ might leave a vulnerable person out of options. Senior leaders may also face the additional pressure of competing for the funding that keeps service users supported and staff in a job, since decreasing resources and increasing need means an environment where organisations race to provide services for less than their partners/competitors. This is another ‘yes’ that means stretching boundaries and working harder to meet increasingly complex needs. Decision makers may be working hard to absorb as much of the impact as possible, and at times, this might lead to feelings of defensiveness and frustration when frontline staff and middle managers express dissatisfaction about the challenges they are facing. A context where both resources and capacities are strained can become a tinderbox for conflict, empathy fatigue, burnout and staffing issues, not to mention reputational damage and further unintended impact on service users.

This may be a representation of an organisation or sector in crisis, rather than the day-to-day reality of many not-for-profits. But there’s a sense of these issues becoming increasingly likely as so many face difficult decisions about how to stay afloat in stormy waters. So, what can be done to address this? I’d love to offer the mythical magic bullet response here, but of course, complex issues faced by diverse groups require nuanced and situation specific responses. However, here are some questions that might go some way to starting to get unstuck and look towards longer term change:

1.        What partnership opportunities might exist or be developed to promote a more collaborative approach to providing services, sharing resources and addressing the wider issues?

2.        How honest are we being with funders about what can realistically be delivered within the available budget on offer? What opportunities do we have to work with them towards addressing discrepancies between needs and resources?

3.        When staff concerns and work related wellbeing issues arise, are we genuinely responding and collaborating in a way that is consistent with our values and approach? What might be getting in the way of this, and what resources or support might we seek to facilitate brave and compassionate spaces to address these issues?

4.        When might we need to say no or adjust what can be delivered when resources are limited?

5.        What campaigning and communications might need to be put in place to push for increased funding, policy change etc.?

6.        Have we considered workplace wellbeing in the context of working conditions and increased living costs, as well as offering EAP programmes? Can staff delivering highly skilled work in challenging conditions afford to live on the salaries on offer?

7.        How are we involving service users and staff in change processes and decision making? How can we do this in a way that genuinely values their work and does not contribute to burnout?

8.        What assumptions might we be making that could be holding us back? What opportunities are there to challenge and move past these assumptions?

Ultimately, there are issues that need to be tackled in the context of sector-wide collaboration and transparent communication with those who hold the purse strings about what’s needed and what’s possible in the current climate, rather than overstretched leaders in survival mode participating in a race to the bottom. And then, there are the human relationships at the heart of the matter. Community and helping relationships are the fundamental point of most organisations working in this field, so it feels especially important to find the capacity and the will to engage with the most sticky challenges in a compassionate, trauma-informed way that positions everyone as skilled fellow humans on a shared mission. This is easier said than done when people are at their edges, which leads back to the problem of overworking and preventing burnout. It may feel like there’s no time and space to slow down and engage with this right now, but it’s worth framing this work as just as important as the day-to-day running of services. With healthier boundaries, recovery time and opportunities to re-regulate in place, it’s far easier for dedicated professionals to roll up their sleeves and collectively do what they do best, which is getting stuck into complex challenges and finding ways through difficult and distressing territory towards recovery and change.

5 Reasons to go on a Burnout Prevention Retreat

If you're anything like many of my clients, you're probably really invested in personal development and wellbeing, but a bit fed up with wading through busy online spaces full of quick fixes and wonder cures. You might be feeling the weight of supporting others while struggling to maintain your own work-life balance, or noticing the early signs of burnout creeping in.

1. Deep Reflection Beats Quick Fixes

Let's be honest - there are no magic bullets when it comes to preventing burnout or reconnecting with your sense of purpose. What I've found has a much bigger impact is taking dedicated time out to do some in-depth personal work. Unlike trying to squeeze reflection and recovery into the gaps between meetings, a retreat offers the rare gift of uninterrupted time to tune into what you truly need at this stage of your life and career.

2. A Whole Person Approach to Burnout

While there are many valuable ways to address burnout - from counselling to medical support - most tend to treat specific issues in isolation. I approach burnout from a whole person perspective, recognising the connections between our emotions, thoughts, body sensations and behaviours. This retreat offers not just respite, but practical tools for recognizing early warning signs and establishing sustainable practices that work for you.

3. Embodied Learning That Actually Makes Sense

If you're new to embodied approaches or skeptical about some of the more magical claims sometimes made in the wellness world, you're not alone. I won't offer you unrealistic promises or pseudoscientific jargon. Instead, you'll learn practical, evidence-based techniques for tuning into your body's signals and re-regulating your nervous system. These tools can help you navigate challenging situations with more confidence and authenticity.

4. Small Group, Big Impact

Working in a small, carefully curated group creates something special. It's not about doing deep work in a large room full of strangers, but about building real connection and trust. Maybe you're used to being the supporter, the fixer, the one who holds space for others. Here's an opportunity to receive support yourself, benefit from outside perspectives, and remember that you don't have to figure everything out alone.

5. A Different Kind of Reset

Sometimes, making decisions from a place of exhaustion leads us to focus more on getting away from problems than moving towards what we need. This retreat offers something different - a chance to step back, breathe, and reconnect with your most up-to-date, wise Adult self in a beautiful, nurturing setting.

Is This Right for You?

I’m offering a burnout prevention retreat, specifically designed for people who:

• Work in supporting roles (e.g. third sector leaders, coaches, facilitators, frontline support workers)

• Value personal development but may be new to embodied approaches

• May be feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or disconnected from their sense of purpose

• Want practical tools for preventing burnout and maintaining healthy boundaries

• Need time and space to reflect and re-evaluate who they are and what they need now

I know it's a big step to take time away from your responsibilities to focus on your own wellbeing. But here's the thing - investing in your resilience isn't just about self-care. It's about ensuring you can continue to show up effectively for others and maintain the impact you want to have in your work and life.

Remember: taking time out isn't a luxury - it's essential for sustainable performance and wellbeing. Sometimes the most powerful step we can take is creating space to receive support in a setting designed for deep, transformative work.

Secure your space today - click here to book or contact me to find out more.

Essential Skills for Socially Conscious Leadership - Using the Seven Cs Model to Drive Change

In recent years, there’s been a cultural shift in many parts of the working world, from top-down, ‘command and control’ leadership to more socially conscious, collaborative approaches to leading teams. For some, this may still be seen as a fluffy optional extra or an invite to waste precious time by crowd-sourcing decision making processes. But I’d argue that developing leaders who are emotionally intelligent, skilled communicators with good boundaries and socially conscious values is a necessity, not an option. Even now, it’s often still the case that career paths can involve becoming proficient in a specific role, then being promoted into a leadership role  on the strength of experience that may or may not require good people skills. If organisations don’t invest in supporting emerging leaders to develop the relational skills necessary to support healthy, happy, successful teams, they risk their people’s wellbeing, the quality of their work and the potential for innovation and creativity. So, what are these skills and why are they important?

One framework that might be helpful in defining good social leadership is the ‘7 Cs’ – part of the social change model of leadership development created by the Higher Education Research Institute of the University of California Los Angeles. This model highlights that anyone can develop these qualities and be a leader, regardless of their position in a hierarchy. It identifies seven qualities and skills that socially conscious leaders need to have in order to succeed. They are:

Consciousness of self

Self-awareness is an important starting point in any successful endeavour, especially as it relates to being and working with others. Understanding our own preferences, needs, areas for growth and development and communication styles can help to prevent misunderstandings and conflict, as well as supporting each person in a team to play to their strengths. Of course, being aware of our own needs and preferences is only the beginning of the story. I’ve often encountered examples of leaders and teams taking quizzes to determine their communication preferences, personality structure or archetype, only to then use their findings as a way to absolve themselves of unhelpful behaviours and responses – ‘what can I do, I’m a [insert category here]!’ Don’t’ get me wrong, I’m not here to denigrate any of these categorisations – they are as useful as their application. Ideally, self-awareness will be an impetus for further personal development, asking for support where needed, and negotiating with others about how to get the best from communications with us. When I was training in Performance Psychology, my supervisor had me develop what was essentially a ‘how-to’ manual that explained the quirks, needs and preferences that might help others to work well with me. I’ve never handed over the physical document to a new contact (perhaps a slightly overwhelming prospect). But it has often been helpful for me to explain to people I line managed that, for example, my brain needs time to transition between tasks, and as such, if I’m focusing on a task and am interrupted unexpectedly with a request, my initial response might be a blank stare or a clipped tone. I’ll generally manage to mentally change gear after a minute or so, but I’ve found that it’s kinder and more efficient to negotiate ways to check my availability for a chat, rather than launching into a discussion of which I’ll miss the first few sentences. This doesn’t mean that I have no responsibility to do my part in getting the most from both my brain and my relationships with colleagues, but in this case, the thing I’ve developed an awareness of and communicated to others is related to an ADHD trait – it’s not something I can easily change. That is to say, sometimes we can become aware of a tendency, communicate it and realise that we need to make a change within ourselves. And sometimes, it’s enough to develop the awareness, communicate a need and negotiate a workaround.

Congruence

This is a core concept in many therapeutic schools of thought. It’s about honesty, integrity and alignment of thoughts, feelings and behaviours. We are social animals, evolved to be (for the most part) sensitive to social dynamics and signs of potential conflict. As such, many people are at least subconsciously aware that something feels ‘off’ when someone is being inauthentic. When our language, behaviours, body language, micro-expressions and signs of energy levels seem to contradict each other, trust can be eroded. This might call to mind the debate about ‘bringing your whole self to work’ and how much authenticity is appropriate in specific work related situations. We often have a concept of ‘professionalism’ which suggests that we should leave our real emotions and thoughts at the door in favour of a more polished version that carries less risk of conflict or discomfort. I’m a fan of diplomacy, professional boundaries and appropriate challenge, and I don’t think these are particularly at odds with an approach to leadership that gives permission and encouragement for leaders to be unashamedly human, with emotions, flaws and the ability to come back from making mistakes. This permission can help us to cultivate more congruence – we might feel more able to say things like ‘I’m really sorry – I do want to help you with this but I’m a feeling bit overwhelmed with working on task x and might struggle to give you my full attention right now. Can we find a time where we can sit down and really get stuck into problem solving the issue?’ or ‘I’m noticing a bit of resistance in myself as you talk about this idea. I think I need to go away and explore what that’s about – I don’t want to shut you down. Can you give me a bit of time to ponder it and then we can discuss it again over a coffee later today?’

Commitment

This seems like an obvious point in the context of good leadership, but commitment to the cause is essential. Given that, as previously mentioned, we’re all human, there will likely be times when we feel less motivated or more overwhelmed with our work and find it difficult to connect with our commitment. There’s a real watch-out for burnout here – if we begin to feel a sense of apathy and disconnection from the mission, vision and values we’re working towards, and struggle to find compassion for the people we’re supporting, we need to listen to the warning signs and take action (including the sort of action that leads to taking genuinely restorative breaks). But when not at risk of burning out, it’s important for leaders to be able to find and demonstrate motivation and some level of passion for their work. Personally, I was never especially passionate about management roles in and of themselves, but I’ve always loved supporting people to develop and recognise their skills, find their passion and bring their unique skills and insights to their work. I loved using a coaching approach in my leadership work, even before I trained as a coach. That passion offered enough leverage to get me through the aspects of management roles that I found less inspiring. Even in leadership contexts where the commitment isn’t related to the core activities of a business or organisation, a deep commitment to supporting people is essential.

Common purpose

Ideally, establishing shared values and purpose begins at recruitment. And it falls to leaders to support others to connect to that sense of purpose, particularly when things are feeling difficult or stuck. This can link back to congruence – it’s worth interrogating and discussing how (and indeed, if) an organisation or team’s stated values and purpose actually live beyond the pages they’re stated on. And there may be a need to establish a set of specific values, aims and purposes beyond those of a wider organisation – what do people really care about, feel motivated by and want to get out of a project? Again, the concept of leverage is often useful when motivation is low or it seems there is no end in sight – how can we connect with the wider purpose and the reasons behind our efforts? There are a couple of caveats attached to this, however: firstly, it’s important not to abuse or over-use this tactic in a bid to push people beyond what can reasonably be expected of them. Having spent around two decades working in the third sector, I’m very familiar with the ways that people’s passion for social justice can be exploited and used as a reason for being overworked and underpaid. And secondly, it feels important to inject a little realism (or perhaps cynicism?) about the realities of the working world for many people. We live under a capitalist system for the time being, and selling our labour is necessary for survival. Not everyone takes on a job out of a sense of passion for a cause, and many people prefer to show up, tackle the tasks at hand, and go home to enjoy the remaining hours in their day. So I’m not suggesting that we need everyone to demonstrate commitment to a shared purpose at all times; but if we’re thinking about the sort of work that asks for shared values and commitment to a cause, establishing a good fit at recruitment and support to connect to purpose are key. A final watch-out here is conflating shared values with groupthink – while it's important to have everyone pull together in the same direction, conformity and a restrictive sense of ‘culture fit’ can really deprive a team of diverse perspectives.

Controversy with civility

This is about appropriate challenge and leaning into discomfort without creating a hostile working environment. It’s a difficult thing to achieve and, I believe, very much worth investing the effort into. As mentioned above, a sense of common purpose doesn’t negate disagreement, conflicting needs and challenge. These will inevitably arise (and if not, that may present its own set of concerns to be addressed), and how leaders respond and help to cultivate a safe enough environment to contain them is crucial. I’ve found myself in groups of leaders where the majority view was that challenge and disagreement were negative and to be avoided at all costs. I found this deeply uncomfortable, as it seemed obvious to me that this would likely lead to festering resentments, a lack of congruence  and missed opportunities for learning and growth. I’m very committed to creating environments where difficult conversations can be held with compassion and curiosity… and yet, I’m also quite conflict avoidant, so I understand the urge to smooth things over, rather than get them out in the open. I believe that good social leadership involves being grounded, compassionate, sensitive and robust enough to make and discuss difficult decisions, to hear challenge from a place of openness, to speak up when something feels wrong or unjust and to encourage others to do likewise. ‘Civility’ in this case isn’t about polite avoidance, a stiff upper lip approach or an aversion to disagreement; but rather, might involve things like the use of ‘I statements’ (where we take responsibility for our own reactions to others and start with describing our own feelings, e.g. ‘I feel frustrated when you keep missing and pushing back this deadline, because it stops me being able to do my next task. I’d prefer it if you could give me an honest assessment of what’s getting in your way, whether you need any additional support, and when you realistically will be able to get it done’). It might involve unpacking our own sense of defensiveness when we’re challenged and taking time to formulate a more thoughtful response. It might involve some reflective work around your organisational culture around challenge and controversy.

Collaboration

Collaboration has become something of a buzzword over the years, and with good reason. There are levels of collaborative work, from consulting with and incorporating others’ ideas and views into planning a project, right through to structures with flattened hierarchies and equal decision making power. But the spirit of collaboration in any context is about genuinely valuing each person’s contribution, understanding the benefits of bringing different ideas, perspectives, experiences, skills and ways of working together, and making space for others. Sometimes, collaboration can be the most effective, efficient and energising way of working, because it can allow people to draw on their strengths and to support each other. Alternatively, it can feel slow and laborious compared to a more top-down or stoic ‘I’ll just do it myself’ approach. But the benefits tend to far outweigh the frustrations of inviting colleagues further into decision-making, planning and carrying out tasks. Multiple studies have shown that collaborative approaches increase healthy working relationships, fostering an environment where trust and good communication grow. And that collaboration supports significant improvements in innovation and business outcomes in general. What good collaboration looks like in practice will vary from team to team and from project to project – it’s worth taking time to do the groundwork around this, as well as considering factors such as whether increased responsibility within a particular project will add pressure to colleagues’ capacity (in this case, it’s worth considering how their time and workload might be protected).

Citizenship

This seems to me like the most nebulous of the 7 Cs, but it offers a valuable opportunity to think beyond the confines of the project or organisation that the socially conscious leader is part of. It’s about the leader, and the team they are part of, connecting to their wider community and society, and considering what they might contribute. How might we utilise the skills and insights that we have learned through leadership development to benefit the communities we are part of? And how might the leadership work that we are doing be part of the change we want to see in the world? It can be helpful to step back from time to time and look at the bigger picture, re-establish our goals and vision, and decide whether we need to make any changes or new commitments in service of this. However, I do acknowledge that this can feel like a huge responsibility, and am conscious of a need to work within our sphere of influence without over-stretching ourselves. It seems possible to hold both positions though – we can aim to make change on a realistic, sustainable level that protects us from burnout, while considering how this links to the bigger picture and how we might best use our skills to be a small part of bigger changes.

Preventing burnout: Coping Strategies for Witnessing Atrocities

Understanding the Impact of Witnessing Atrocities

The world feels like a scarily inhumane place to live right now. Just when I think I can’t be any more shocked by the cruelty of another act of internationally sanctioned violence, a heartless national policy closer to home or a story I’m told by a client, friend or stranger, something new appears and ups the ante. I was hesitant to write about how those of us fortunate enough to be observing tragedy and brutality from a safe distance might be feeling. But, if we’re deeply impacted by what we’re observing in the world and moved to try to be part of the change, we must have opportunities to pause, process and get back out there in any way we can. The same is true whether we’re campaigning against systemic violence, leading a project that poses a risk of vicarious trauma or considering how we engage with and communicate about the information we’re able to access round the clock via social and traditional media. Let’s explore how we might prevent burnout, overwhelm, normalising what may once have shocked us, and feeling frozen with guilt or shame.

The most pertinent example of this for me right now is my response to witnessing seven months of genocide. I feel a sense of obscenity about the fact that, for me, life goes on more or less as normal when I’m not engaging with this horror. Many professionals working in frontline services and people who have lived through ongoing traumatic events can attest to how quickly the unthinkable can start to feel normal. We’re an incredibly adaptable species, with a need to make sense of our environments and the capacity to do what needs to be done in order to survive. Our brains are wired for energy saving wherever possible, and there’s a finite amount of energy available to stay in a place of shock, fear, anger, disgust and so on. And so, we may start to become numb, to distance ourselves from the costly business of feeling. If we’re very lucky, we may also be able to look away, and to avoid engaging with things that are happening to ‘others’. It’s an understandable response, and none of us should be put in a situation where we’re forced to reckon with the horrific choices made by fellow humans on a day to day basis. But something I look out for in my emotional world is a sense that the unfathomably awful images I’m seeing each day online might be starting to feel normal. It’s a sign that I’m reaching capacity and need to clear some space to process my emotions before I re-engage. Yes, that’s a privilege in itself – for anyone in literal survival mode, this is not an available luxury. But as allies, we’re of limited use to those we want to support if we’re burned out, numb or stuck. Using the resources we have and leaning on community to step in when we need to step away is crucial.

Compassion fatigue and vicarious trauma can be rife in systems that are under-funded, under-appreciated and over-subscribed. Taking on responsibility for too many people and too many projects can mean dangerously high stress levels for all, and a sense of distancing that starts to threaten empathy, mentalisation[1] and the capacity to see others as fellow, flawed humans who are probably doing their best. There are obvious structural solutions to this problem in the form of well funded public services including high quality training and support. So, when we’re not applying political pressure on this issue, what can we do about burnout and vicarious trauma prevention for leaders, campaigners and anyone who feels called to do something about the horrific events they’re witnessing?

COPING STRATEGIES for change and resilience

Firstly, some form of pressure valve can be invaluable. This can take many forms, from reflective practice spaces, to grief circles, embodied practices and space to share our thoughts, feelings and experiences with others who ‘get it’. It’s also important that these opportunities to let go, feel, express and reflect are contained and limited. We can’t get stuck in grief, despair, hopelessness, fear or anger, though it’s important to acknowledge, rather than suppress them. Knowing that there’s a specific time and space to let off some steam can help us to get through the day. In my experience, a well held space with a managed transition back into day-to-day activities is very much worth the required resources. That transition from engaging and expressing back to a more contained place might involve activities and tools that intentionally change the energy in the space and reconnect us with our capable, Adult selves before we dive back into whatever needs to be done. The timing, frequency and format of pressure valve activities deserve some careful consideration. And crucially (especially in a workplace environment), all involved need to feel safe enough to show up authentically and express what they need to express. If this doesn’t feel possible, there may be wider cultural issues to address within the team or group.

Perhaps that sounds easier said than done, especially if what people are processing involves deeply divisive and potentially traumatic themes. What do we do about competing needs? There are no magic wands here, sadly. It’s crucial that people are able to set and maintain their own boundaries, rather than feeling coerced into participating in something that doesn’t feel right for them – feeling ‘done to’ can often be a contributing aspect to the onset of burnout. One organisation that I work with offers separate (optional) reflective spaces for people of different identities, as well as spaces open to all – this may be a helpful approach to potential divisions and concerns about psychological safety in some cases. In any situation where discussions of sensitive topics might be encouraged, it’s advisable to have a strong and compassionate group agreement or shared set of values that everyone signs up to. How challenge and conflict might be met is a helpful consideration here.

‘We fight, we rest and we rise’ - taking breaks and re-engaging

(Jenny Moore)

When it comes to engaging with disturbing news, images and first hand accounts of violent and traumatic events, what’s the ‘right’ level of engagement? The potentially negative impact of excessively consuming social media isn’t a new or radical concept. I believe it might often be oversimplified or overstated, but I’m also aware of what my own experience tells me. It’s important to step away, to try to avoid the ubiquitous doomscrolling habit, and to give our eyes and brains a break from the never ending stream of new information and artificial blue light. We must apply the usual ‘put your own oxygen mask on first’ advice and look after our own health, listen to our bodies and let our minds rest. And yet, this is balanced with regular calls on those of us watching atrocities from a distance to ‘not look away’. Daily access to video footage, pictures and first hand accounts of horrific cruelty is a new concept, and brings an additional sense of responsibility, since we can’t claim to have been unaware. We’re being asked to witness, to mobilise, to see people’s humanity and recognise the value of their lives. For many of us, what we witness will feel like too much to bear or believe, and what we can offer will feel woefully inadequate. But we can witness to the best of our ability and capacity, taking space to re-energise where we need to and then re-engaging. Sometimes we need to look away for a moment, while perhaps connecting with gratitude that we are fortunate enough to do so. There’s an important distinction here between gratitude and guilt or shame. Sometimes, what we feel grateful for is an unearned privilege – something we’re lucky to experience or avoid due to the accidents of birth, time and place. Acknowledging that luck doesn’t necessarily have to lead to feeling guilty about it, though that’s an obvious next step (as is defensiveness, at times). The thing that’s so difficult to face is that occupation, war, famine, pandemics and so on could happen to any of us at any time. We may hope that, if it happened to us, that those not directly affected might step in and help. We’d probably want them to be as well resourced as possible, to be compassionate, informed and ready to roll up their sleeves and take any action, big or small, that might contribute to our survival and eventual return to thriving. We probably wouldn’t want them to be burned out, numb, paralysed with guilt or fear of doing the wrong thing or so overwhelmed and in denial that they refuse to acknowledge what they’re seeing.

building community support networks

When we’re feeling powerless, one of the solutions may once again be found in community. Creating spaces to decompress and share our experiences with others can help to relieve some of the heaviness of witnessing trauma, and in turn, can re-energise us for the onward journey. And when we’re feeling powerless, we can celebrate the small moments of shared humanity where we find them. We can remind each other of times that unbearable cruelty and oppression were forced to come to an end through political and financial pressure that millions of people came together to contribute to in their own ways, however small.

Resources & references

If you are feeling overwhelmed or experiencing burnout/vicarious trauma, please seek support:

Contact me to find out if I can help

Visit https://www.mind.org.uk/

 Self-care resources by TARSHI

Support for Palestine:

Gaza Emergency Fund

Medical Aid Palestine

Palestine Solidarity Campaign

‘We Fight, We Rest, We Rise’ (Jenny Moore/F Choir)

[1] Mentalisation is the ability to imagine what another person may be thinking and feeling