There Is Life After Autistic Burnout, And It's Fucking Magical, I Promise

I wrote a whole-ass field guide on how to find your own path through the dark woods and into the warm sunlight—and it's free.

I’ve always been in the habit of carrying books with me wherever I go.

As an undiagnosed Autistic kid, having a book with me provided portable shelter, a safe paper haven to escape into when the world became overwhelming. Books also guaranteed that I wouldn’t die of boredom on endless car trips and visits to relatives.

This trend continued strong into adulthood. Whether I was headed out to walk in the woods or sit by the ocean, or whether I was on my lunch break at the public library, without a book in my bag, I felt empty, like a limb was missing.

As I grew into a crunchy spiritual hippie poet, I began to favor bringing a certain kind of book with me on expeditions outside the house.

This kind of book would usually be of a smaller size—either pocket-sized, or the thinness of a volume of poetry. In fact quite a few of these books would be poetry: Mary Oliver, always, can never go wrong with Mary Oliver; other favorites were Jane Kenyon, Jane Hirshfield, Sharon Olds, Adam Zagajewski, Andrew Hudgins, Billy Collins; there were also books by Canadian poets, some of them friends, some of them teachers, like Jan Zwicky, Don McKay, Bren Simmers, Roo Borson, and Matt Rader.

There were lots and lots of nonfiction books on the list, books about nature, spirituality, and/or creativity, preferably all three. Some of my long-time favorites of this genre include Annie Dillard, Pema Chodron, Natalie Goldberg, and Zen priest Karen Maezen Miller. More recently, works by adrienne maree brown, Tricia Hersey, Charlie Claire Burgess, and Robin Wall Kimmerer have joined the ranks.

In my weird and intensely nerdy phase of being a contemplative Christian obsessed with monastic life, I carried around the writings of Thomas Merton, a hot monk who died by electrocution in 1968 or—and this is for real—The Rule of St Benedict, written in the 6^th century (not a typo) as the rules & protocols that governed daily life, work, and prayer in a monastery. (And still does, by the way.)

I carried these books as talismans. They often wouldn’t make it out of the bag I carried them in, but even if they didn’t, they still served their purpose, as their mere presence brought me joy and comfort. Even if I didn’t read a single page the whole time I had it with me, having that kind of book in my bag filled me with a delightful sense of possibility, like even the most mundane of excursions could unexpectedly shift into the sublime, simply by reading a few lines in a good patch of sunlight.

There were times when these books were more like a life raft, a safety flare, an oxygen tank. I can recall those intense early years as a mother with undiagnosed postpartum depression when it felt like the tiny Pema Chodron book in my bag was the last remaining thread connecting me to sanity.

I cannot recall a moment in my life where I didn’t think of myself as a writer, and it has always been my most ardent wish to write this kind of book: the kind that might act as an oracle, as a comfort blanket, as a life jacket—whatever the moment might need, like some kind of multi-tool for the soul.

And now I have. And it’s ready for you. And it’s free.

The Field Guide to Soft Animal Magic is a 45-page downloadable zine in which I share my notes on the journey through the dark woods of Autistic burnout and out into the bright land of Autistic soul embodiment that lies on the other side.

This is the journey beyond the contraction of internalized oppression we know as shame, beyond the grip of urgency, scarcity, and pressure, and into the expansive experience of actually fucking letting the soft animal of your body love what it loves— without burning out or feeling like you’re gonna die.

I imagine it as part grimoire, part old-school field guide, and part travel memoir. In it I put everything I thought you might need as you navigate in the dark, find your way by feel, and make your way out of the shadows of burnout and into the sun of living and loving as your authentic self, without shame or apology.

I loved every single one of those books I carried like sacred rocks in my pockets. Each of them held and nurtured me through some tense and tender moments, and offered me medicine I desperately needed at crucial crossroads.

And yet.

While they contained some clues as to which path through the woods to take, and words that brought me comfort on bitter cold nights, none of my talisman books contained the actual advice I ultimately discovered I needed, which was how to recover from the harm of a lifetime of not knowing I was disabled, and how to thrive as an embodied Autistic witch.

I couldn’t find the exact magic I needed in any book, so I created my own. In it I show you exactly how I cultivated a life of accommodation, sensory joy, rest, comfort, imagination, creativity post-Autistic burnout, one in which I feel at home in my body, at peace in my soul, and in which I can finally trust that the love I have for my partners, my friends and family, my colleagues and clients is reciprocated, safe, and true.

While so much around us is unknown and dark, the most valuable thing I can offer you is this wild, fierce hope that changing the story nervous system is possible.

Hope that changing patterns of protection into patterns of connection is possible.

Hope that making space in the nervous system to feel, receive, and create without burnout or overwhelm is possible.

And while I wrote this from the specific perspective of late-diagnosed AuDHD burnout, you don’t have to have a formal diagnosis, you don’t have to be certain you’re Autistic—hell, you don’t even need to suspect you’re Autistic at all in order for Soft Animal Magic to be enormously beneficial for you.

In fact, I wrote this field guide for all of us who are in rebel bodies—that is, any body whose needs are marginalized & whose value is diminished by the colonial, cishetero, capitalist patriarchy is a rebel body. This includes, but is not limited to:

• People in neurodivergent bodies.

• Bodies experiencing chronic illness, chronic pain, and/or autoimmunity.

• Queer & trans bodies.

• Grieving & healing bodies.

• Burnt out bodies.

• Bodies of people from the global majority.

• Pregnant & postpartum bodies.

• Fat bodies.

We have already tried every method out there even though they were never designed to work for us. Maybe it’s time we tried the magic that has always been ours, and waiting for us to return to it.

As you venture down your own path of curiosity, experimentation, softening, and rest, my hope is that the Field Guide to Soft Animal Magic can be that trusty resource, friend, and guide that reminds you that you are not alone, that you are on the right path, and that all of your efforts and attempts, however small, matter.

Welcome to the dark woods of Soft Animal Magic, beloveds.

Your guide is ready.

The path awaits.