how offering pro bono can help us reduce our risk of burnout

With 51% of small businesses owners experiencing burnout since the pandemic started, what should we be doing that we currently aren't to help us better look after ourselves?

In conversations like these around self-managing our personal well-being, there’s often a tacit assumption that balancing looking after ourselves means we have to somehow separate ourselves from the ‘good work’ that we strive to do (or at least, strive to get paid for!), and, in the words of Monty Python, do something completely different.

But what if doing more of what we currently do in the ‘day job’ might actually help us better look after ourselves?

I’ve been reflecting recently with other people about how I approach and ‘balance’ my pro bono work as a sole trader with the need to make sure I keep earning enough cash to keep the rent paid.

Because if we don’t get this trade off between ‘work and love’ working properly, we either find ourselves homeless (evicted after non-rent payments because we didn’t do enough  paid work in favour of our pro bono offers), overwhelmed by guilt at not doing more when we feel we should/could (not feeling able to turn people away who we know we could have helped, but couldn’t otherwise pay us), or trying to satisfy all these demands on ourselves and then seeing the ‘lights go out’.

And the way I try and get it right is through the following approaches:

• Offering pro bono through structured volunteering programmes: that way there’s someone half keeping an eye on how much I’m doing, and trying to make sure I don’t get overloaded with requests. It also means that there’s also someone I can semi-regularly check-in with to make sure I’m also feeling ok with it all.

• Tracking the time I spend on pro bono and monetising this: I can then compare this figure to my overall paid earnings. It’s a tidy check-sum as I’ve a target percentage in my mind as to how much I should be ‘gifting’ through my pro bono work.

• Reflecting with others on how they’re thinking about it and their approaches (all my fellow Club members whom I’ve already been having conversations with about this - it wasn’t all one-way!)

• And ultimately, trying to accept the truth that however superhuman we might otherwise see or wish ourselves to be, we can’t save everyone.

But I’ve also been exploring my motivations, and the benefits I get from such apparent altruistic service to others.

Whilst there’s a host of other benefits that I could wax lyrical about, something I learnt very early on while offering pro bono is that removing the payment part of the relationship with a group (or person) radically changes how I perceive the dynamic - rather than constantly reminding myself that I need to keep this project moving along in order to be able to get paid (the starting point of the client relationship), I’m instead finding that I’m coming to the project as an equal to the people involved, and much more open to learning with them as we progress. It’s easier to work at a more relaxed, natural pace, and there’s more enjoyment to be had in the time I’m spending with these people and their communities, because I’m not worried about having to ‘watch a clock’ for billing hours.

We don’t often think that the pro bono we offer is a way through which we can take better care of ourselves. I’ve found it a good tonic for refreshing my passion for what I do, having been able to immerse and indulge myself in doing it purely for the love of it, rather than as a means to an end (in this case, making sure the rent gets paid next month).

to best look after ourselves, we should stop listening to other people's advice on how to it

After my recent "is it just me..?" rant on YouTube about how it costs us self-employed freelance types more to access the same health and well-being supports than our employed counterparts, I started to think a bit more widely on how we might rethink looking after ourselves.

“Putting your needs as priority is not just a nice to have but a necessity if you want to continue doing the good work you set out to do.“ - that’s a statement we’ll all have heard at some point, and found ourselves agreeing with, but likely then struggling to figure out how we actually best manage that.

And whilst for some, we’ll be doing that ‘good work’ as part of a salaried role, for others it’s a core defining feature that informs how we approach everything in our work and lives. And that starts to make it hard when looking at other people’s examples of how they’ve created their ‘perfect balance’* to inform our own approach. (What also makes it harder is that if we’re part of the 4.5 million self-employed, the tax system means it costs us more to invest in our own well-being than our salaried counterparts have to pay for the same activity…)

But I don’t think we should be focussing on creating the perfect ratio of client work, meditating, eating kale, walking the dog, and/or taking holidays in vineyards to ensure we’re best looking after ourselves. The world we live in, and our own personal and family circumstances are constantly changing, so perhaps the ways in which we seek those recharging times/moments should also? 

• Why not start to allow ourselves to be properly invigorated by the outcomes of the ‘good work’ we’re doing? Share in the stories with clients as to the positive outcomes we’ve helped create for people, communities, and the planet in the weeks after we’ve completed our assignments with them (also a good way to potentially generate some new introductions and prospects for repeat business if nothing else!)
• Instead of fixing hard times each day/week for specific activities, try and use spontaneity and serendipity to show yourself some love: as Agent Cooper of the FBI once said, “every day, once a day, give yourself a present (but don’t plan it)”**
• And as much as it’s cliched, find ways to share your stories, frustrations, and hopes with other people who really get what it’s like to run the type of venture you do. We can’t wave a magic wand for you (although, I have do have a magic wand that I use from time to time), but the act of vocalising the stuff in our heads, hearts, and guts, has a way of either giving it the power it needs, or reducing the power it has over us.

Ultimately, this is a theme that loads of other people have/are/will write about, and the subject of countless books, podcasts, and TED talks. All of which will be useful for someone (usually the person who created them), but those people aren’t you - and only you will know what works best for you in helping you not ‘see the lights go out’. What works for you will be right for you - try out different things, be kind to yourself if none of them seem to work to begin with; keep trying until you find those things that were always meant for you.

Perhaps the hardest part in all of this though, is that YOU have to make the decision to invest in looking after yourself. And that’s probably the hardest part of figuring out how to look after yourself when we see the need around us that others are constantly struggling with. It took me over 20 years to be OK with allowing myself to be ‘selfish’ from time to time. Hopefully it won’t ever be that long for anyone else.

*the ‘perfect balance’ only ever exists in Instagram posts

** If you don’t recognise this quote or the Agent’s name, then go and binge watch Twin Peaks as soon as you can

days like today

 Days like today come round every so often, when the planets align in an unusual way:

- calls we've booked are suddenly postponed or cancelled at the last minute;

- the weather seems unexpectedly nice;

- there's plenty of coffee in the pot;

- there's a stack of actions and follow-ups to do for client projects, reading to catch-up now, and our own business development which no longer need to be being deferred or delayed;

- and yet...

Some days we just don't feel it - it's hard to get motivated despite all the signs apparently looking good for us to be making headway and getting ahead for once.

Last week, I would have almost paid good money for a day like today - a clear block of several hours with no interruptions (other than resisting the temptation to play Lego Tower on my phone), in the desperation to be able to be able to get on with some of the aforementioned tasks.

But it's just not happening, and its nearly lunchtime already.

So this is a time to try and practice some self-care: to remind myself that it's ok to not be able to be working at the usual high-level pace that I seem to on a 'normal' day. That I am, after all, only human and am allowed to have 'off days'.

Tomorrow will be different I'm sure, but for now, maybe I'll go and gaze at the sunflowers in the garden...

If you're not prepared to 'burn out', maybe you shouldn't be a social entrepreneur...

With the start of a new decade, resolutions abound - and they're usually to do with trying to be healthier and taking greater care of ourselves. Indeed, there seems to be a growing trend in many Facebook and LinkedIN groups that I'm part of to encourage more open and honest conversations about our mental health and well-being.

And this doesn't seem to be a passing fad - the imperative to do so seems to be increasingly supported by evidences and research, highlighting the cost of 'burn out', particularly for/to social entrepreneurs... https://uk.reuters.com/article/entrepreneurs-social-mentalhealth/doing-good-found-to-take-its-toll-as-more-social-entrepreneurs-report-burnout-idUKL5N2715KT

But I can't help but want to 'poke this with a stick' a little bit, and suggest that actually, burning out may be exactly what a social entrepreneur needs to do, if they're to fully achieve their vision.

You see, to my mind, "social entrepreneurship" isn't about creating the next big social enterprise that will magically create hundreds of jobs for people who otherwise wouldn't be able to work, or managing to somehow stop all plastic pollution by itself (as they're often envisaged and encouraged to be by policy makers and similar). 

I have an idea that a social entrepreneur's biggest impact is actually more through how they influence others, and contribute to changes in others' practices and understanding more widely - and in doing so, can have a far greater reach and generate far more change than a single venture could ever hope to.

And in that regard, they're a bit like artists - many of whom seek to re-imagine the world as it is, or could be; to offer us a critical and fresh perspective that gives us pause to reexamine what we think we know and understand; and in doing so, become a fuller and more complete person.

And just like social entrepreneurs, artists struggle too - with many never seeming to manage to achieve their 'break through moment'. But sometimes, one does, and in doing so, creates a piece of art, the legacy of which completely changes the way everyone around the world who sees it, is challenged to revisit their assumptions and prejudices about a subject matter.

One famous example of this, is Edward Munch's "the Scream"  

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Scream 

This painting that has subsequently inspired so much other media and cultures, has also enabled us to have more open conversations about pain and well-being, and even allows us to communicate with future generations who are likely to loose the language we use today. It has become one of the most iconic images in the art world ever.

As such, it's ongoing legacy surely symbolises what social entrepreneurs strive for themselves.

But we rarely talk about what it cost Munch to create: a crippling anxiety attack, likely brought on from being burnt out...

So, my question for all would-be social entrepreneurs is this: what price would you be willing to pay in order to create a legacy that will touch people's lives around the planet for generations to come...?