I heard a quote recently that lingered with me: burnout isn’t too much of something, it’s not enough of what lights you up.

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At first glance, burnout feels like depletion; too many hours, too many demands, far too many expectations. But if you look closer, there’s actually another truth: what’s missing is joy, play, and the sparks that remind us of who we are beyond productivity.

This summer, I found myself experimenting with that very truth. Building a fort in the living room. Dancing in the rain. Going for Sunday drives with no destination in mind. While not Instagram-worthy milestones—they were private acts of reclamation. And yet, woven into each was also a little bit ofsadness. The fear of being “too much.” Along with the fear of looking silly and grief of realizing how many years those whimsical parts of me had been muted.

The Cost of Hiding Whimsy

For many overthinkers and high achievers, the whimsical and creative parts of ourselves are the first to go. We intellectualize instead of play. We ruminate instead of create. And when we do risk sharing our joy; whether it’s photography, cars, art, or music—we’re often met with misunderstanding, dismissal, or even embarrassment from others.

That sting can run extra deep. It’s not just rejection of the hobby—it feels like rejection of the self. Over time, the nervous system learns: better to stay small, better to hide the spark. Burnout then becomes not only exhaustion, but a slow erosion of self-trust and self respect.

And yet, the paradox is this: grief and whimsy are companions. The more we allow ourselves to step back into play, the more we bump up against the grief of when that play wasn’t safe—or when it wasn’t welcomed. Healing means holding both: the delight of rediscovery and the sadness of what’s been lost.

Whimsy as Emotional Intelligence

Here’s the piece that’s often overlooked: whimsy itself is a form of emotional intelligence. To build a fort in your living room or ask yourself how can I make today more magical requires imagination, curiosity, and self-awareness. It means attuning to your nervous system’s need for levity and your spirit’s need for play.

But in a world that prizes logic and productivity, whimsy is often dismissed as childish or frivolous. In reality, it’s a sophisticated skill: the ability to access joy, expand perspective, and stay connected to what lights you up. And when it’s undervalued (both by us and by others) we lose an essential tool for resilience.

How Solution-Focused Therapy Helps Overthinkers

This is where solution-focused therapy (SFT) can be transformative. Overthinkers often live in spirals of what went wrong and what if I had done more. SFT interrupts this loop. By design, it’s strengths-based and future-focused. The past isn’t erased, but it’s reframed as context—a series of experiences that shaped you but don’t have to define your next step.

Here’s the psycho-ed piece: solution-focused therapy works on the principle that small, meaningful changes accumulate. Instead of analyzing why you stopped dancing in the rain, we ask: When you last felt alive, what was happening? What small piece of that could you invite into today? This shift interrupts rumination, offering an anchor in action rather than paralysis.

For many, SFT feels more like coaching. It cuts through the static of intellectualizing and gets you moving toward possibility. Over time, that builds not only momentum but also self-trust, which is an antidote to the shame that often shadows overthinking.

Therapy as Maintenance, Not Emergency

As a psychotherapist when my clients transition into maintenance, it’s rarely because the work is “done.” It’s because the relationship has become a grounding practice, or like an oil change for the soul. Sometimes that means monthly sessions, sometimes quarterly. The rhythm isn’t about crisis, but more about staying aligned and accountable to something.

Maintenance sessions give space for both shadows and celebrations. I often encourage clients to brag—to speak their accomplishments aloud without apology. For many, this is one of the only places where joy doesn’t have to be downplayed or edited for fear of judgment. That’s why they come back. The therapeutic relationship itself becomes a container where their whimsical, creative selves can live without censorship. I might be biased, but my clients have some of the most remarkable minds!

The Invitation

As it turns out, burnout recovery isn’t just about resting more—it’s about remembering who you are when you’re lit up. Therapy can help you reconnect with those parts of yourself that feel forgotten or fragile, while also giving you tools to hold the grief of when they weren’t safe to share.

If you’ve tried therapy before and it didn’t resonate, know this: not all therapy is the same. Different approaches open different doors. Solution-focused therapy might be the doorway that helps you move beyond overthinking and into a future where your light feels sustainable, not scarce.

This week I hope you ask yourself: what’s one small way you could make today more magical? And if you’d like support in finding more of those moments, I’d love to connect. Book a free Discovery Call and let’s explore how therapy can help you step back into your whimsical, emotionally intelligent self—and keep the spark alive.

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Photo by Dmitry Ganin on Unsplash