“Wellbeing burnout” refers to the phenomena whereby the “relentless pursuit of wellbeing” is making people “less well” — partly because they are stressed by all the conflicting advice on the internet. As Camilla Cavendish writes, “It used to be quite easy to look successful. You basically just had to brag about how hard you worked. If anyone asked how you were, you’d sigh and say, with just the right smattering of reluctance: “A bit tired actually — I’m crazy busy.” That’s no longer enough. To be truly successful in today’s world you must be properly worn out, from all the extra hours you’re putting into staving off mortality.”
In today’s economy, most people are just figuring out ways to get by, survive, and make sense of their dwindling net worth each passing day. Others are figuring out secret recipes for Kale smoothies, cold plunges, and wellbeing retreats in the Alps.
The difference between the haves and the have-nots is most clear based on what they obsess over. The haves have their well-being priorities, and the have-nots have their bills to pay. Then there is this interesting section of people in between. They have some money to not worry about short-term expenses and they have Instagram to see how the shiny new influencer broadcasts how he made millions committing to a well-being ritual premised on deep sleep, deep work a couple of hours a day, deep family time, and deep everything else.
The “In Betweens” often infer what’s holding them back is an insufficient commitment to well-being. Is that wrong? Not really. Focused effort, with clearly demarcated boundaries between leisure and work, is obviously a helpful thing. The challenge is that it is the ultimate luxury product positioned as an attainable aspiration.