There's a version of burnout that's especially hard to talk about — the kind that happens not because your work is meaningless, but because it means too much.
Terrence was one of the people I spent the most time with while writing this book. He was in his early thirties, had put himself through school, was supporting younger siblings, mentoring kids in his neighborhood, advancing in a career that wasn't exactly designed with people like him in mind. By any measure, he was doing extraordinary things.
He was also barely holding on.
When we first talked, he described it as feeling like he was always running a deficit. Like no matter how much he did, it wasn't quite enough, and no matter how much he gave, he never felt refilled. "I'm motivated," he told me. "I just don't know how much longer I can keep going."
What I came to understand, working through this with him, is that not all meaning is created equal. Viktor Frankl, whose work is central to Staying Strong, argued that humans are fundamentally meaning-seeking creatures — that purpose is essential to psychological survival. He was right. But Frankl developed his ideas under the most extreme conditions imaginable. What he couldn't fully account for was the texture of meaning in ordinary life: that some sources of meaning replenish us while others, even worthy ones, draw us down.
Terrence's life was full of meaning. It was also full of obligation, pressure, representation, and consequence. Every meaningful thing he did came attached to the weight of people depending on him. There was nothing in his life that was just his — that existed apart from what others needed from him.
That's not a motivation problem. That's a sustainability problem.
The shift for Terrence — and it was slow, and it wasn't easy — was learning to distinguish between those two kinds of meaning. To find, and protect, sources of meaning that were genuinely replenishing: things he did because they mattered to him specifically, not because others needed it. A few hours a week that belonged only to him. Permission to receive, not just give.
This is one of the quieter lessons in Staying Strong: staying strong isn't about finding more motivation. It's about building a life where the things that matter to you also have some capacity to give back.
If you've been running on meaning alone and wondering why you're still exhausted, I think there's something in this book for you.