Hi Creators and Doers,
You’re an expert…
And on your good days, you know that.
You know exactly why you were hired.
And you show up, day after day.
Until THAT day…
The day when your can of can-do spirit is empty.
The day your get-up-and-go slows to a stop.
The day that your inspiration fails you.
My Name is Mozella Perry Ademiluyi, and here is this week’s Mountain MuseLetter. Each week, I offer you ways to have what you want, make the difference you came here to make and love the life you live.
Today, we’re diving into a feeling that most of us know all too well, but rarely talk about openly. It’s that subtle, insidious creeping sensation when the spark just isn’t there.
The ideas aren’t flowing, the motivation feels elusive, and even tasks you once loved now feel… well, like just more tasks.
As an author, I understand what is often called “writer’s block”.
But you might call it hitting a wall, analysis paralysis, or being stuck in a rut.
Whatever you call it, you know what I mean… We’ve all been through it.
Do you ever find yourself feeling like part of a flock of sheep at work?
You know… just following along, feeling overwhelmed, or even a bit lost in the collective shuffle?
That relentless pace, the constant distractions – both digital pings and emotional tugs – the lingering exhaustion after a tough week?
It feels like one task blends into the next without a moment to catch your breath.
I know you do because we talked about this a couple of weeks ago.
I know you do because, sometimes, we all do.
Unfortunately, these experiences are incredibly common.
And the worst part of it is the sense that you’re the only one who experiences this internal drain, this lack of fire.
But trust me, you are not.
And then starts the guilt.
The self-recrimination.
The shame.
This brings me to our central metaphor for today: The Hibernating Bear.
In those moments, don’t you feel like your inner creative bear has hit snooze indefinitely?
Listen to me when I say this:
That spark, that drive, that brilliant idea that usually pops into your head when you’re least expecting it… it’s not gone, it’s just really, really sleepy.
It’s nestled deep in its cozy cave, dreaming of salmon and berries, while you’re out here, trying to conquer mountains.
So, why does our inner bear decide to hibernate? It’s rarely out of laziness. More often, it’s a very smart, albeit inconvenient, survival mechanism.
Sometimes, it’s due to overwhelm and depletion.
Think about that relentless pace of work as meetings fill your calendar… and your inbox that never sleeps.
Then you get home and there is a new bunch of responsibilities and obligations.
We’re constantly expending energy – mental, emotional, and physical – without adequate time for replenishment.
When you’re running on fumes, inspiration is often the first luxury your system decides to cut.
Your bear isn’t sleeping because it’s lazy; it’s sleeping because it’s exhausted. It’s trying to protect you from total burnout.
Other times it’s a lack of clarity or purpose.
Have you ever had a moment where, while you’re working incredibly hard, you just can’t remember why?
Or you feel stuck on a plateau, unsure of the next step?
When the path ahead is foggy, and you don’t know what exciting berry patch you’re even heading towards, your bear might decide it’s safer, and frankly, more energy-efficient, to just stay put.
A lack of clear direction or a disconnect from your deeper purpose can mute the call of adventure.
And sometimes your bear, like in the archived MuseLetters “Transforming Fear into Fuel” and “Breaking the Perfectionism Trap,” is in the cozy but confining cave of fear and perfectionism.
Our inner bear is perfectly capable of waking up, but it’s scared to leave the cave.
Scared of the cold, or simply worried about not finding enough to eat.
Fear of failure, fear of judgment, or the relentless pursuit of perfection can stifle any budding spark.
We don’t try new things, we don’t put ourselves out there, and eventually, the creative muscle atrophies, leaving the bear comfortably, but unproductively, asleep.
Again, regardless of the reason, this “hibernation” isn’t a sign of weakness or a lack of talent.
It’s often a crucial signal from your mind and body that something needs attention.
But how do we interpret that signal?
And how do we wake the bear strategically, gently, and effectively, rather than just hitting it with a loud, jarring alarm clock?
This brings us to Step 6 – Assess Your Plateau, a vital concept within our 7-Step Approach.
(For a complete run through of the 7 Steps, download The Mountaineer’s Pocket Guide… find the link below.)
Often, when we think of a plateau, we think of it negatively
– as a period of stagnation, a flat, unmoving stretch where nothing is happening.
We feel like we’re “stuck” or falling behind.
But really, plateaus are neither inherently negative nor positive.
They most often signify periods when we’re meant to stop to rest.
Sometimes, and ideally, they are planned times created to guard, store, and build energy.
For others, the plateau is triggered by your body telling you it’s time to stop and rest.
And others, yet, you are stuck, and something(s) needs to change to get you moving again.
My own experience climbing Mount Kilimanjaro perfectly illustrates the profound value of these “plateau moments.”
My long, difficult days of moving across the vast and varied terrain always ended with what we called our “campsite ritual.”
It wasn’t just collapsing into a tent.
It was a celebratory song from all our climb support team, a sense of fellowship, caring, and genuine connectedness.
We all know the feeling of lying awake at night, unable to sleep, dreading the next day’s tasks, feeling that internal wellspring just dry.
Well, celebrating the end of each day gave us a true sense of accomplishment and gratitude.
It helped us sleep well that night, deeply and restoratively, and wake up energized and encouraged for the day to come.
That consistent, intentional energy management was the secret sauce.
These ‘plateau moments’ were invaluable in our efforts to accomplish what we set out to do.
On the other hand, when you hit 3,800 meters up the mountain, you get to the Shira Plateau…
It’s flat land … a stretch of land that you have to cross.
You’re not getting any higher. But you are still getting farther along.
You have to keep on trudging… easier terrain, but thankless work that you just have to get through before you continue the more obvious ascent.
You see… They are two distinctly different types of plateaus on the same mountain… needing two distinctly different approaches.
And neither of them is the same as being stuck… Which happens too, but needs yet another set of tools and actions.
So, how do we distinguish between needing a well-deserved break and truly being stuck? And more importantly, how do we actively manage and build energy in these crucial plateau moments?
How do we define “me time” in a way that’s realistic and genuinely restorative, even for the most overwhelmed among us?
That’s the point of Step 6.
Assessing your plateau means answering the million-dollar question: How do we interpret that signal from your mind/body?
Because then we can plan accordingly.
To your much lighter climb,
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