I’m one of those people who practices gratitude daily. In fact, I’m a gratitude-practising overachiever.   

Sometimes, I write what I’m grateful for in my journal. Other times, I take thirty seconds out of my day to reflect on the million wonderful things I’m lucky to have. 

Naturally, my children and wife are part of my process. 

But then this thing happens. 

Ever so slowly, life lays siege to my gratitude practice, bombarding me with increasing work commitments: an overflowing inbox, tiredness from the baby waking more in the night, guilt from not exercising or for not reaching out to my friends, and … well … guilt’s a chameleon; it comes in many shades.  

And the consequences? Burnout. Brain fog. Taking for granted that which I’m usually grateful for.  

It’s easily done. We’re human after all, fragile beings. 

So, what do I do? The only thing I can do. I take a break from my family, from work, from it all. I close my laptop. I disconnect. 

And when that happens, when I stop – truly stop – I quickly find my thoughts drifting towards my family, my wonderful family: my amazing wife, who does so much for me and our boys, who are a constant source of joy and happiness for me. 

Suddenly, I’m retreating from the cliff edge of burnout. The brain fog has lifted. I’m not taking anyone for granted. Instead, my gratitude meter is at its usual, vibrantly pulsing 100 per cent. 

And to think, all I needed to do to reorient my compass to its correct heading was to take a break. 

Sometimes that break is a weekend away with friends. At other times, that break is a walk around the park. Sometimes it’s a twenty-minute power nap. 

Often, taking a break is the kindest thing we can do for the ones we love.