Exhausted but Hoping

By Shane Kulman

Dear Enchantress, 

Lately, even the simplest tasks feel heavy. I wake up already bracing myself for the day ahead, my chest tight and my mind buzzing with everything I “should” do. I light my candles, I journal, I try to breathe, but the tension never fully leaves. Sometimes, I notice my body trembling after long days, tiny tremors of exhaustion and unspoken fear, and I feel guilty for even acknowledging it. I’m the kind of person who holds everything together for everyone else, but lately, my own self feels like it’s slipping through my fingers.

What’s worse, the stress isn’t always from chaos in the world around me. Sometimes it’s the pressure to be calm, to be “spiritual,” to radiate peace even when inside I feel frayed. My creativity disappears, my magic vanishes, and I feel frozen, as though the weight of all my responsibilities and emotions has stolen my sparkle. Even when I try to meditate or breathe through it, I can’t shake the sense of always needing to perform serenity, always needing to be enough for everyone and everything.

And yet, I also feel deeply sensitive to the world. The suffering, the collective worries, the constant pull of other people’s needs, it’s a blessing and a curse, leaving me open-hearted but often drained. How can I care for myself without feeling selfish? How can I allow the stress to exist without judging myself for it? How do I reclaim my power, my calm, my creativity, my magic, when life feels overwhelming?

I long to move through the world with grace and ease, but I fear my nervous system has forgotten how to rest. I want to be present, radiant, and connected, not just for others, but for me too. How do I bring back ease and joy when stress has woven itself so tightly into every part of my life?

Thank you.

Dear Exhausted but Hoping,  

Oh, beloved, the weight you carry is real, and your heart’s sensitivity is a gift, not a flaw. It’s no wonder your body trembles and your mind feels frayed. The first step toward reclaiming ease is giving yourself permission to simply be, without judgment or expectation. You do not have to radiate calm all the time; you are allowed to feel the storm and the quiet alike.

Begin with small, deliberate acts of restoration. Even five minutes of meditation can anchor your nervous system. Sit quietly, breathe deeply, and imagine each inhale drawing in calm, each exhale releasing tension. Let your body feel the rhythm of your breath, like a gentle tide, and remind yourself: I am here, I am enough, I am safe, you can say it out loud, whisper it, write it, or think it.

Create micro-moments of enchantment in your day, a cup of tea steeping, a candle flickering, a walk in sunlight. These acts are not indulgence; they are reclamation. Your creativity and magic are never lost, only waiting for space to breathe, sit down and focus on the one thing you have chosen, when your mind drifts away, reign it back in.

Finally, tend to your boundaries like sacred soil. Saying no, resting first, asking for help, these are spells of self-preservation, protecting your heart so it may remain open without being depleted.

You are allowed to slow, to rest, to simply exist. The stress will soften in time, and your radiance will return, brighter, steadier, and more yours than ever.

Enchantress Shane