The Sovereign Drop 008 - on Exhaustion

Not a newsletter, but a ritual.

One drop each week. Distilled wisdom for the whole man.

There was a time when men lived in extremes.

You hunted — long days, little sleep, total focus, all-in.

Then you returned home — the job done — and you rested. You recovered. You celebrated.

Or you went to war — full exhaustion, real danger, nothing left in the tank.

And when you came home — you were fed, tended to, rebuilt.

Work had a clear beginning and end. Effort and recovery existed in rhythm.

And before the offices, meetings, inboxes, and Slack threads —

A farmer rose before dawn, worked the land from sunup to sundown — planting, harvesting, repairing, surviving.

It was brutal work. Demanding, physical, and clear.

Then the sun went down.

The tools were put away.

The work was finished.

And the body collapsed into rest without guilt — because the day had been fully spent.

Men used to live in cycles like this.

The hunt.

The war.

The harvest.

Periods of deep exertion — followed by visible, unquestioned rest.

Today, it’s different.

Most men don’t do physically demanding work anymore — unless you choose to.

But your mind never shuts off.

Your body can keep going like this for years. 

Your nervous system cannot.

This is what we call, living in the “grey zone” —

not fully working, not fully resting — just hovering there, always half “on.”

Here’s the deeper root of it:

There’s no obvious finish line anymore.

No slain deer.

No victory.

No moment when the tribe says, “You did it. Rest now.”

Just another email. Another text. Another fire to put out. Another goalpost quietly moving into tomorrow. 

Your wiring — the relentless drive to provide and protect — never gets the signal to stand down.

So you stay keyed-up. Always braced. Always slightly elsewhere.

The problem with mental work is this:

Your brain doesn’t limp home. 

Your muscles don’t shake from fatigue.

You don’t show up gaunt or bleeding or sunburned.

So no one knows how tired you actually are. Not even you.

Because you’re wired to provide, to build, to protect — the finish line keeps sliding forward.

When is the day “done”?

When the inbox is empty?

When the revenue number is hit?

When the fires are all out?

Be honest — has that moment ever really arrived? 

Your ancestors had visible seasons of work and recovery.

Today, you live under permanent strain with no natural reset — and no cultural permission to stop.

But inside? You’re threadbare.

Here’s the cost:

You think you’re protecting your family by working nonstop. 

But when you bring the war home with you, your family stops being protected by you and starts needing protection from you.

Your irritability and distraction.

Your distance.

Your inability to put the armor down. 

You walk through the door — but your mind drags the world in behind you:

The pressure, stress, and competition.

The noise, threats, and unfinished business.

Now your wife doesn’t just nurture the home, she has to defend it from you and your unresolved day.

And quite honestly? She’s not built for that role.

Women create, stabilize, tend, nourish, and restore.

But they’re not meant to be the emotional shield wall inside the house.

That’s your job.

And when you stay “on” — even after you walk through the door —

she has to become the protector instead. No one wins.

A change is in order:

Define success.

Define it for your life.

Define it for your year.

Define it for your week.

And yes — define it for today.

And when you hit the mark?

Stand down. REST.

Walk through the door.

Put your phone away.

Let your body release the armor.

Be home.

Recover.

Laugh.

Touch your wife.

Hold your kids.

Eat slowly.

Let yourself belong.

This isn’t laziness.

This is honor.

A true protector doesn’t just fight the world.

He shields his family from it.

Even — and especially — when the battle is happening inside his own head.

If pride is the thing that tells you the world always needs you available, call it what it is: Insecurity wearing leadership’s clothes.

Unpack that.

And lay it down.

Your people need you rested —

not worn to the bone by a war that never ends.

Question: 

Where is the finish line for you — and when was the last time you actually crossed it?

Integration:

This week, set a real finish line.

Not a theoretical one. A visible, defined, time-stamped end to your workday.

Pick it in advance — AND HONOR IT. 

When you cross it:

• Close the laptop.

• Put the phone away.

• Let your shoulders drop.

• Let your mind stand down.

Notice what happens inside you.

-Notice how hard it is not to check.

-Notice the itch to stay “available.”

-Notice the part of you that believes the world will fall apart without you.

That’s the work.

If you can’t shut down, you’re not leading — you’re being driven.

Practice ending the day on purpose.

Do it cleanly and do it consistently.

Teach your nervous system what finished feels like again.

Benediction:

Exhaustion is not a badge of honor.

It’s a signal that you’ve forgotten where the finish line is.

Remember it.

And go home.

I believe in what you are becoming.

— Amy