The Worst Kind of Tired (For Artists)
- Meagan Mayne

- Aug 29
- 2 min read
On Pessoa, Thought, and the Fatigue That Follows Us
There’s a passage in The Book of Disquiet that struck something profound in me:
“The abstract intelligence produces a fatigue that’s the worst of all fatigues. It doesn’t weigh on us like bodily fatigue, nor does it disconcert us like the fatigue of emotional experience. It’s the weight of our consciousness of the world, a shortness of breath in our soul.”
If you’re an artist, I think you’ve known this kind of tiredness.
It’s not the exhaustion that sleep fixes. It’s not about the ache of a long rehearsal or a vulnerable performance. This is something else. It’s the exhaustion that comes from thinking too much, from living in your mind, constantly analyzing and reflecting, absorbing too much meaning in your body.
Artists live this kind of fatigue more than most.
We spend our lives turning, staying open, noticing what others don’t see, allowing tension without resolving it. We reflect the world back. That’s beautiful, but it’s also exhausting.
Pessoa calls it “a shortness of breath in our soul.” I’ve felt that on days when I overanalyze every choice I make in a performance, or when I’ve read too deeply into a text, or pondered an unanswered question for too long. It can feel like the world is spinning out of control. What usually makes you feel alive makes you feel like you’re in a fog.
This kind of fatigue doesn't come with apparent symptoms, which makes it harder to treat. You may feel distant, detached, or disoriented. It may feel like you’re watching your life instead of living it.
This, too, is the work of being an artist.
Not to glorify burnout. Not to make art out of exhaustion. But to feel what you are feeling, and to learn when to center yourself. We don’t always need more insight. Sometimes what we need is something tangible: a good meal. A warm beverage. A walk. A meditation. Singing for no one. A warm bath. A messy kitchen. Something to make us feel grounded and give our minds a rest.
We cannot live only in the mind and expect to create from the heart.
If you’re tired in this way, take it seriously, not as weakness, but as an invitation to do a different aspect of the work. Let the fatigue of abstract intelligence direct you towards something tangible. Thought and deep feeling is only half the work.
The other half is just being a living human.


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