The Sacred Pause: The Solopreneur’s Antidote to Burnout

How a simple question from Rainn Wilson’s “Soul Boom” helped me replace hustle with holiness and build a business that doesn’t cost me my peace.

Photo by Frank Leuderalbert on Unsplash

You know the feeling. It’s 3:17 PM on a Tuesday. Your to-do list is a tyrant, your inbox is a bottomless pit, and the glow of your screen feels more like a prison spotlight than a gateway to freedom. You’re chasing client work, algorithm updates, and revenue goals with a frantic energy that, deep down, feels hollow.

You started this journey to build a life of purpose. But somewhere along the way, the purpose got buried under the productivity. The meaning got lost in the metrics.

I (Cristof) was deep in this exact grind. As a freelance programmer, my worth was measured in billable hours and completed projects. I stacked them high, convinced that maximizing my income potential was the ultimate goal. The result? I was a husk. Stressed, burned out, and painfully disconnected. The romantic dates with my wife? A forgotten concept. Quiet moments with my cats? A luxury. My morning meditation? The first thing sacrificed on the altar of "busyness."

I had traded my inner peace for outer progress, and it was the worst bargain I’d ever made. I was doing all this work for my family, but in the process, I had become completely absent from my family. I was building a business to create freedom, but I had become a slave to it.

Then, I read a paragraph in Rainn Wilson’s book, Soul Boom (affiliate-link), that stopped me cold. It was a simple invitation—a plea, really—amidst a chapter on meaning. He asks:

“Please take five minutes to consider… What is holy to you personally? Where does sacredness live? What should be sacred to all of humanity? What is most definitely not sacred? What have we lost by not having more ‘sacredness’ in our lives?”

His hope was to spark one action: a moment of pause.

Reading that, I felt a deep resonance. I had already stepped away from the 24/7 freelance grind, but the mental habits of hustle culture were stubborn ghosts. The frantic energy, the guilt for pausing — these were my default settings. The word ‘pause’ in Rainn’s passage wasn’t a life raft from a sinking ship, but a validation for the dry land I was already standing on. It was permission to make my new reality feel not just like a break, but like a sacred, permanent shift.

So I closed the book, set my phone aside, and applied this new lens of ‘sacredness’ to the peace I was trying to build.

Here’s what I discovered in that sacred pause:

What is holy to me is not the output; it’s the process. It’s the sacred act of healing, writing, and creating between 8 AM and noon each day. It’s the time I spend journaling to untangle childhood traumas and insecurities, not just to become a better businessman, but to become a whole man. This is the foundation upon which a meaningful life—and a sustainable business—is built.

Sacredness lives as a feeling in the heart of my being. It’s not an abstract concept; it’s a tangible energy I can locate in the center of my chest. It’s the universal love and joy I can access through a momentary pause, a deep breath, a conscious re-centering. It’s my internal home base, and I had been away from home for far too long.

What should be sacred to all of us is getting out of the hustle culture. It’s making non-negotiable pauses to reflect, realign, and simplify. The endless heist for money, fame, and power is a hollow game. The true spiritual journey is the one that leads to an inner happiness independent of outside factors—the kind of success that no market crash can ever take away.

That Tuesday afternoon grind? The constant busyness devoid of meaning? That is the opposite of sacred. It’s what leads us away from our true path. But here’s the beautiful paradox I learned: that feeling of emptiness, that volcanic pressure of dissatisfaction, is also what eventually forces us onto a spiritual quest. It’s the catalyst. As Thich Nhat Hanh said,

“in the sunlight of awareness, everything becomes sacred.”

Even our burnout can become a teacher if we pay attention.

So, what have we lost by not having more sacredness in our lives? We have lost our peace. And peace is the most precious wealth in the world. For this very reason, my current LinkedIn banner states:

“There is no greater wealth in this world than peace of mind.”

See it here and connect.

Without it, we cannot serve others or ourselves in our highest possible way. We just spin on the hamster wheel, wondering why we’re so tired but getting nowhere.

Your Practical Pause: A 5-Minute Business Strategy

This isn’t woo-woo; it’s the most practical productivity hack you’ll ever adopt. Your sacred pause is your strategic advantage. It’s what prevents burnout and fuels authentic creativity.

Here’s how to start, today:

1. Set a timer for 5 minutes. Do this before you check email or social media.

2. Ask yourself just one of Rainn’s questions: “What is holy to me personally in my work or life today?” or “Where can I find a pocket of the sacred in my schedule?”

3. Listen. Not with your brain, but with that feeling in the center of your chest. The first answer that arises without ego—that’s your truth.

4. Protect it. That thing that came up? That’s your new non-negotiable. It is more important than one more email.

When I started doing this, everything changed. I didn’t work less; I worked better. My creativity became more focused, my energy more sustainable, and my connection with my clients more genuine because I was no longer running on empty. I was serving from a place of overflow.

I regained my peace. And from that place of quiet wealth, everything else flows.

What is one thing that is sacred in your work and life? Share it in the comments below. Let’s create a living library of what truly matters.

If this piece resonated with you, you’ll love our weekly Simple and Aligned newsletter. Every week, we share one simple prompt, one insight, and one actionable tip to help you stay connected to what’s sacred in your work and life, so you can build a business that feels like a calling. Join us here and get free access to our ever-expanding library of PDF-guides for more conscious living and success.

With love and alignment,
Cristof (and Sophia)

The Childhood Memory That Programmed Me to Self-Sabotage

…And How I’m Rewriting the Code

Photo by Quino Al on Unsplash

I (Sophia) couldn’t understand why I kept abandoning my dreams. The answer was 30 years old, hiding in a hallway, listening to my mom on the phone.

I thought my problem was time management.

I’d devoured every book, every blog post. I’d tried every productivity hack. For years, I’d cycle through the same pattern: I’d start a project with fiery passion. For three, maybe four days, I’d feel incredible—aligned, purposeful, and satisfied.

Then, without fail, I’d abandon it.

Something “more important” would pop up. A website bug that had to be fixed. An inbox that needed to be zeroed out. I’d tell myself a very logical story: “Let me just tie up all these loose ends. I need a clear mind and a clean slate to do my real work.”

But by the time the slate was clean, my energy was gone. My real work—the writing, the recording, the creating—never happened.

I blamed my willpower. I thought I was lazy, undisciplined, a dreamer who couldn’t execute.

I was wrong. My willpower was fine. It was being held hostage by a story written decades ago. It took a 100-year-old book by Émile Coué to make me look for the puppeteer. He introduced me to the ruthless power of the subconscious mind, which he called the imagination:

“Not only does the unconscious self preside over the functions of our organism, but also over all our actions. It is this that we call imagination and it is this which contrary to accepted opinion always makes us act even and above all against our will when there is antagonism between these two forces.”

My will wanted to create. But a stronger force was making me act against it.

It took a moment of deep honesty to find the source of that force: a young girl, standing in a hallway, listening to her mom on the phone.

I was that girl. I had ranked second in my class for years, and I was proud. I worked hard. I knew who was first, and I was genuinely happy being second. It felt like my place.

Then I heard my mom’s voice, tinged with a disappointment I’d never heard directed at me: “Oh yes, she again has only ranked second.”

The air left my lungs.

The message my heart received was catastrophic: Your best will never be good enough. The highest effort you can possibly muster will still be a disappointment.

So, my brilliant, young mind made a survival decision: If you can’t win, don’t play the game. If your best is a failure, never give your best.

It created a saboteur, a protector, whose sole job was to ensure I never put my whole heart into anything ever again. That way, I could never feel the crushing pain of my “best” being found wanting.

For 30 years, I didn’t know this protector existed. But she’s been running the show ever since that day in the hallway. She made me a puppet, and I never even saw the strings. Coué saw them clearly:

“We who are so proud of our will, who believe that we are free to act as we like, are in reality, nothing but wretched puppets of which our imagination holds all the strings.”

Her strategy is genius: Productive Procrastination.

When I start getting too close to my heart-work—the work that matters so much it could be deemed “my best”—she swings into action. She doesn’t tell me to be lazy. That would be too obvious.

Instead, she makes me productive. She creates a compelling, logical, and urgent case for doing everything except the important thing.

• “You can’t write an article with a messy website! Fix it first!”

• “How can you record a video with unorganized files? Organize them first!”

• “Your inbox is full! You can’t possibly focus with that hanging over you.”

She is the ultimate Streamliner. Her justification is always about creating the “perfect conditions” for genius to strike.

But her real mission is to run out the clock. To ensure I never, ever put myself in a position where I risk giving my best effort and having it be “only second.” Because if I don’t truly try, I can’t truly fail. I had believed so proudly in my free will, but Coué was right:

“If we open a dictionary and look up the word ‘will’ we find this definition: ‘The faculty of freely determining certain acts’. We accept this definition as true and unattackable, although nothing could be more false, this will which we reclaim so proudly yields to the imagination. It is an absolute rule that admits of no exception.”

How I’m Learning to Fire the Protector

You don’t defeat this kind of deep programming with a new planner. You defeat it with compassion and conscious reprogramming. The goal is not to fight the imagination, but to guide it.

“We only cease to be puppets when we have learned to guide our imagination.”

1. Acknowledge the Protector with Love. I don’t fight her anymore. When I feel the urge to suddenly reorganize my entire life, I stop. I say, “Thank you. I see you. I know you’re trying to protect me from that old hurt. Your job is done now. I’ve got this.” Acknowledging her presence disarms her.

2. Redefine “Winning.” The child’s definition was: Winning = Being The Best (First Rank). My new definition is: Winning = Showing Up Authentically. My worth is not tied to an outcome—a ranking, a viral article, a number of subscribers. It is tied to the courage of creating and sharing. This reframes the entire game.

3. The “Good Enough” Rule. I actively practice doing things “good enough.” I send the email with a typo. I post the video with imperfect lighting. I publish the article that feels 80% there. This is direct action against the old program. It’s a rebellion against the need for a flawless “best.” It proves to my subconscious that the world doesn’t end when things aren’t perfect.

4. The New Autosuggestion. My Coué mantra is no longer about time or joy. It’s about identity and safety. I repeat, every morning and night: “My best is more than enough. I am safe to share my voice with the world.”

This is how we rewrite the code. Not with force, but with a gentle, persistent persuasion of our deepest selves. We thank the old protector for her service, and we finally, gently, take back the strings.

What’s a story from your past that you know is still running your present? Sharing it, even just in the comments, can be a first step in rewriting it.

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All indented quotes in this article are from Coué’s book Self Mastery Through Conscious Autosuggestion*. If you’d like to read up on Coué’s wisdom yourself, feel free to explore it. It’s quick to read, a true classic, a treasure for life!

(*Amazon.com affiliate link: If you choose to click it and make a purchase, we may earn a small commission.)

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This journey of untangling our past from our present is what we explore in the Simple and Aligned Newsletter. It’s about building a life and business that feels good because it’s run by the adult you, not the child who got hurt. Join us here for more.