Are we all burnt out now?

Why I picked up War & Peace and put down my phone

Slowly Does it

I’m part of Simon Haisell’s beautiful army of slow-readers. We’re taking a whole year to ramble through the lives of five aristocratic Russian families in Leo Tolstoy’s War & Peace.

I’m enjoying it immensely.

I like the luxury of reading a single page or two (three or four on a big day).

I look forward to checking in with the rest of the reading gang on the Footnotes & Tangents chat page. I’m always amazed by the creative and thoughtful comments. Insightful connections and interpretations that I’d never pick up on in a million years.

I’d love to join in and be part of the fun…

Yet, I stop myself from contributing.

I have this underlying fear that my lack of formal education leaves me ill-equipped to enrich the discourse. Occasionally, I muster a throwaway remark or a sparse handful of emojis, but the weight of my inadequacy looms large.

In my daydreams, I craft comments that would meet the approval of some elusive authority figure (a teacher, mother, or a father…who knows?), though I know deep down such validation is a mirage.

What good would praise do me. If someone ever does offer me praise, I’m quick to downplay it. I’m much more likely to hold onto criticisms but good or bad, I do my best to come back to my own internal compass.

While it’s important to acknowledge and appreciate the person offering praise—to be present with them and not consumed by my own embarrassment—ultimately, recognizing the worthiness of my actions lies within myself.

How about YOU?

• Do you find yourself looking for validation from the people who want the least to do with you? Who are those people and what are their values?

• Why do you do that to yourself? What are you looking for?

• On the flip side, do you also, ignore the people who really, really appreciate you? Who are *those people*? The ones who get you?

• Everyone appreciates likes/comments/shares, but do you find you put them before your own sense of your creative output?

• Do you have the sense that Substack is bigger than you or that you are bigger than Substack?

I DON'T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT PEOPLE LIKE ME AS A MEMBER.

—Groucho Marx

Have some space to breathe and commit to answering those questions for yourself…

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Cold Blue Glow

It was back in January when I committed to the year-long slow-read-along. It was a last minute decision and It’s a quirk of my personality that I was signing up to something that I didn’t really expect to enjoy.

This is January to Spring reading a chapter every day (bar one day we had off)

Whatever makes you happy

I wasn't expecting to be captivated by War & Peace, but then, enjoyment was never my intention.

If I had any motivation at all, it stemmed from a desire to escape the cold, blue glow of the digital screens that have become ubiquitous in my life.

Perhaps you can relate? Why do these modern looking glasses hold such power over us?

Digital Detox

Often we frame detoxes (digital or otherwise) as subtracting from our lives, but what about adding something wonderful. What would that do?

My eyes craved the tactile sensation of a printed page —that tangible reminder of the physical world beyond. Can we find respite from the cold, blue glow of screens by embracing the simplicity and physicality of a book?

Pen & Prayer

My knowledge of Leo Tolstoy is scant, and all I knew of War & Peace was it’s daunting length.

If I’m honest, I anticipated boredom, but that was a plus. Boredom felt…and feels…like a place I want to call home.

Boredom crops up in any meditation practice.

It’s an uncomfortable thing to sit with. So much weight behind it.

Thanks to our screens, we never have spend a second with boredom.

I wasn’t long into War & Peace before I realised I wasn’t going to get my fix of boredom.

Tolstoy wasn’t just telling *a* story, he was telling *his* story and maybe even my own story. Each character is Tolstoy in disguise. Even the ones he can’t give voice to.

To my astonishment, Tolstoy's prose transcended mere storytelling. It’s as though he used his pen, not to write words, but to spin Buddhist prayer wheels. It’s no wonder that this book has stood the test of time and that it still resonates with readers today. Tolstoy is grappling with deeper existential questions. Questions that we’re all still asking today.

Photo by Martijn Vonk on Unsplash

I’m not sure how long Tolstoy was able to keep his prayer wheels in flight and it’s not my question to ask.

I do know that he was tormented by the formal teachings of the Russian Orthodox Church and his inability to accept them through blind Faith alone. He may have fell out with the church but he was determined to find answers on his own terms.

“Is there any meaning in my life that wouldn’t be destroyed by the death that inevitably awaits me?” Leo Tolstoy

This is an itch we all have. It’s called conversing with God.

Unfortunately this itch is used against us. It’s used to sell us things we don’t need. It’s used to get us to buy into ideas we then have to lie to ourselves, in order to believe. It’s why we’re so willing to trust that other people know what the fuck is going on, whilst we don’t.

Accepting someone else’s interpretation of life, whether it’s the church, a spiritual guru, or society at large is to live a somnambulistic life.

“This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.”

―William Shakespeare,Hamlet

Is this what our digital screens give us…an ability to sleepwalk through life and never find ourselves bored enough to ask the questions that nearly drove Tolstoy insane.

Are we all burnt out now? It feels like it.

What would it take to take your foot off the gas?