Romanticise Your Way Out of Burnout: 5 Creative Micro-Practices to Reset Your Nervous System

Ever fantasised about quitting your job, buying a one-way ticket to the Himalayas, and spending your days sipping butter tea in a monastery? Same.

We live in a world that rewards exhaustion. Where "booked and busy" is a badge of honour. But beneath the deadlines and dopamine hits of productivity lies a quieter truth—your nervous system is calling for a reset.

But what if, instead of escaping, you simply romanticised your life right here—in your fourth-floor apartment, between two meetings and a lukewarm lunch? A gentle, poetic, almost imperceptible shift. One that whispers: you’re allowed to be soft, slow, and still.

As a freelancer who’s tangoed with burnout more often than I’ve changed my Instagram bio, I’m here to tell you: You don’t need a mountain or a beach vacation. You need small moments in your life. And maybe a hot bath, a playlist of 90s ghazals, or a balcony moment with ginger chai.

Whether you’re clocking in from a cubicle, your kitchen table, or a crowded co-working space, this is for the burnout survivor in you. Let's romanticise our way back to ourselves, without quitting our jobs or climbing any mountains (unless you really want to, of course).

This blog is a collection of micro-practices—a term I borrowed and romanticised myself—that blend neuroscience with writerly whimsy, Romantic-era vibes with modern-day mess. These aren’t self-care hacks. They’re soulful rituals I’ve personally tried and still return to, not because they’re magical fixes, but because they make the mundane bearable, even beautiful.

1. Stroll Like a Sonnet: Romanticise Movement

When everything around you screams urgent, slowing down becomes an act of rebellion. Romanticism, after all, celebrated slowness—the languid, the emotional, the deliberately dramatic.

Here’s my personal ritual: I pretend I’m a character in a low-budget indie film—walking aimlessly through my neighbourhood, observing the cracked paint on old buildings, the rhythm of a pigeon’s wingbeat, the far-off giggle of schoolkids. No destination. No AirPods. Just my breath and the world.

If I’m not walking, I’m brewing ginger chai and watching the world unravel from my balcony: morning gossip disguised as fitness walks, an overly enthusiastic street vendor convincing aunties that mangoes are medicinal. It’s theatre, really.

Pro tip: Whatever task you’re rushing through, double the time you think it’ll take. Slowness isn’t laziness. It’s a strategy.

2. Grow Where You’re Planted: The Power of Green

Let’s talk about green—not the kind in your bank account, but the one your eyes rest upon when you’re trying not to scream into your keyboard.

There’s science behind it. In a 2015 study, participants who wore green-tinted glasses before a stressful medical procedure experienced significantly less anxiety and pain. Green, as it turns out, has a shorter wavelength, requiring no adjustment from our eyes. Translation? It calms us. Visually and physiologically.

My desk plant, lovingly named Sylvia Plath, is not thriving. But even her wilted leaves remind me to breathe. Watering her, watching nature documentaries, or taking a walk in the park with grass under my feet—it all counts. If I can’t touch a tree, I’ll at least open a window.

Micro-practice: a. Paint a wall mint. Sip matcha. Green is not just a colour—it’s a lullaby.

3. Scribble Your Soul Out: Creative Journaling

I once spent an entire meeting doodling angry suns and anxious stars. No one noticed. But my nervous system did.

Doodling, colouring, scribbling—they aren’t childish distractions. They’re art therapy lite. I keep a cheap notebook near my workspace, and when the world feels loud, I let my pen ramble.

Want to take it up a notch? Try colour-coding your day. Red for rage, yellow for joy, blue for numbness, green for hope. It’s faster than journaling and surprisingly illuminating. Sometimes, when I don’t have the words, the colours speak for me.

Also, try touching textured objects—velvet scrunchies, a worry stone, even that weird bumpy coaster you picked up from a flea market. Sensory play activates your vagus nerve. And the vagus nerve? It's basically your body’s chill-out hotline.

4. Permission to Cry: Tears as a Reset

Yes, we’re going there. Crying. Ugly crying. Bollywood climax-level crying. But here’s the twist—it’s good for you.

I used to hide in my bathroom, music blaring, sobbing to Fix You by Coldplay. And you know what? I emerged softer. Lighter. Clearer. Emotional tears flush out stress hormones—science says so. Ancient Greeks even believed crying was purgative, a soulful detox.

If you’re someone who needs a nudge to cry, here are my go-tos:

• P.S. I Love You (movie)

• That one acoustic playlist with too much Bon Iver

• Old messages from people you no longer speak to

Sometimes healing looks like a tear-streaked face in the mirror whispering, “Okay. That’s enough for today.”

5. Be Ridiculously, Radically Silly

I once had a full-blown dance party with myself to a 2000s pop song in my kitchen—spatula as mic, socks as dance partners. And I felt better than I had in weeks.

Silliness is not immaturity. It’s rebellion. It’s how you remind your nervous system that it’s safe to play.

Some ways to embody your inner fool:

• Shake your limbs like a malfunctioning robot (30 seconds = instant reset)

• Crawl like a toddler (not kidding—great for brain-body connection)

• Imitate your pet (or your neighbour’s dog) stretching in the morning

• Wrap yourself in a blanket burrito and narrate your life in a British accent

Laughing at yourself is one of the highest forms of intimacy with your soul.

Stay Soft in a Hard World

You don’t need to uproot your entire life to feel alive within it. You don’t need a plane ticket or a therapist appointment to begin healing. Sometimes, all you need is a 10-minute walk, a coloring pen, a houseplant, or a playlist that understands your ache.

Burnout thrives on disconnection—from your body, your breath, your joy. But these micro-practices? They stitch you back, slowly and sweetly.

So, romanticise the mundane. Add metaphor to your Mondays. Be the dramatic heroine of your lunch break. Because when life starts to feel like a spreadsheet, your nervous system is asking—not for escape, but for enchantment.

Now go. Make that chai. Cry if you must. Scribble stars in your notebook. And remember: soft is not weak—it’s radical.

Loved this? Subscribe for more soft rebellions against burnout, and let’s build a world where being gentle with yourself is the most productive thing you do today.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sushravya Shetty

Born in Mumbai and raised across India’s cultural and cosmopolitan cities, Sushravya Shetty is a writer, Bharatanatyam dancer, and biotechnologist with a deep reverence for expression, discipline, and emotional nuance. A lifelong lover of language, she has contributed to editorial boards, corporate newsletters, and a wide range of freelance projects across creative and technical domains. Her writing blends research-driven clarity with poetic introspection, often infused with metaphor and cultural sensibility.