Why You Can’t Just “Take a Break” from Your Passion

It’s Not Just in Your Head

Illustration by Mihajlo Stojanovic

“It is how we choose what we do, and how we approach it, that will determine whether the sum of our days adds up to a formless blur, or to something resembling a work of art.” — Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

I was sitting beneath the suffocating fluorescent lights of the doctor’s office, legs dangling from the exam table.

My knee was, quite literally, the size of a grapefruit.

“You have bursitis,” the doctor said, without looking up from her clipboard. I already knew this from days of obsessive late-night Googling. Bursitis is the body’s strange way of protecting a joint from overuse — especially from repetitive kneeling or impact — by flooding the area with fluid. It’s common in sports like jiu-jitsu, wrestling, and volleyball.

“There’s not much we can do at this point,” she added. “Just take a few weeks off.”

I could feel the tears forming instantly. “A few weeks? I… can’t.”

She looked at me, puzzled. “What’s the big deal? You don’t make your living from jiu-jitsu, do you?”

“No,” I said, seething. What’s the big deal? Only that it’s my anchor, my mood regulator, my mental health plan, my identity. It’s the only thing that helps me turn off my overthinking brain and just be present. And now you want me to give it up, cold turkey — like it’s nothing?

Anyone who has ever been deeply committed to a passion — athletic or otherwise — knows how gutting it is to be told to “just take a break.” On one hand, it sounds like good advice. To those on the outside, it seems like it should be easy. But in real life? It can feel like an unraveling.

Author and running coach Steve Magness nailed this recently in this thread:

“You’ve probably been told to ‘just take a couple weeks off’ after a long season. On paper, it makes sense. But what if I told you that break can mess with your mind more than your muscles?”

He referenced a study where a group of runners took two weeks off from all exercise. Physically, they didn’t lose much. But mentally? It was a different story. The runners reported increases in depression, confusion, anger, fatigue, and a general loss of vitality. Their levels of two major neurotransmitters — anandamide and beta-endorphin — plummeted. These are chemicals closely linked to mood, joy, and the elusive “runner’s high.”

Magness put it simply:

“When someone tells a dedicated athlete to ‘just take two weeks off,’ it’s not a neutral prescription. It’s like yanking away their primary tool for stress management, emotional regulation, identity, and meaning.”

Exactly.

I’ve felt it every single time I’ve had to stop training — whether from injury, burnout, or life chaos. My mood plummets. My sense of purpose falls away. I get irritable and angsty, like I’m 14 again. And I’ve seen it in others too — teammates, friends, family members who’ve had to press pause on something they love. They feel off, dismantled, less like themselves. Almost instantly, they become worried they’ll never get their spark back.

But this isn’t just about sports.

We often talk about this phenomenon in the context of physical activity — and yes, the endorphins are real. But I’d argue the same thing happens with any deep passion: painting, DJing, climbing mountains, cooking, building LEGOs, playing guitar, chasing entrepreneurial dreams. When you lose access to the thing that lights you up, it can feel like the lights go out inside you.

Here’s why that happens — and why it’s not just in your head:

Passion Engages Our Seeking System

Our brains are wired for pursuit. Neuroscientist Jaak Panksepp dubbed it the “seeking system” — the dopamine-driven network that fuels motivation, curiosity, and our sense of forward motion.

Passions light up this system. They give us something to aim at, something to look forward to, something to chase. Without that aim, we feel aimless. And when we suddenly remove the source of that pursuit — especially without a meaningful replacement — our brain experiences something like dopamine withdrawal. Not just boredom. Disorientation.

Passion Creates Identity Scaffolding

Over time, our passions don’t just give us something to do. They help us become who we are. They shape our routines, our friendships, our self-image. So when we’re forced to step away — even temporarily — it’s not just a loss of activity. It’s a loss of self.

So when it gets pulled out from under you…

Who am I if I’m not training?
Who am I if I’m not creating?
Who am I if I can’t pursue this thing I care so deeply about?

Passion is a Mood Stabilizer

Physical passions like jiu-jitsu or running do this chemically, of course — but any passion provides emotional regulation. It helps us metabolize stress, anxiety, and even grief. It’s an outlet. A grounding ritual. A way to feel like ourselves again.

Take it away, and your emotional world gets stormier — with fewer outlets.

Passion Gives us Access to Flow

Whether it’s gardening, skateboarding, playing guitar, or photographing nature — our passions are often our most reliable gateway to flow. That state where time disappears, self-consciousness fades, and we become fully immersed in the moment.

Flow isn’t just enjoyable — it’s restorative. It regulates mood, boosts creativity, improves health. And when you’re forced to pause your passion, you lose one of your clearest pathways to that deeply present state.

Passion is Social — Even When it Looks Solo

So many of the passionate people I’ve interviewed say the same thing: “The community is everything.” Passion connects us to our people — the ones who get it. Whether that’s fellow athletes, artists, gamers, writers, or business builders, your passion often comes with a built-in tribe.

There’s nothing quite like nerding out about something you love with people who love the same thing as you do.

And when you step away, that sense of connection fades too.

Passion is a Deeper Form of Self-Care

There’s a lot of talk about self-care these days — and bubble baths and meditation have their place. Sure, even the most intense among us need to slow down sometimes. But research on passion shows the opposite: when we pour our hearts into something we love, we become more energized, not less.

Our passions give us a reason to take a break from normal life, to have fun, to be present, and to pursue learning for learning’s sake.

Take all that away, and we’re not really resting. We’re taking away the thing that recharges us most.

So What Can You Do When You’re Forced to Pause?

Sometimes, we do have to pause. I ended up having to take three excruciating weeks off the mat to heal my knee — it sucked, to say the least. Pregnancy, moving, death in the family, job shifts, and burnout — your passion won’t always be smooth sailing.

Life will happen. Sometimes the body breaks down. Or burnout hits. Or life demands a re-routing. So what then?

Here’s what I’ve learned — and am still learning:

Stay connected. Even if you can’t train, text your teammates. Go to practice and watch. Keep your foot in the door.

Reroute the energy. If you can’t paint, can you sketch? If you can’t dance, can you write about it? Keeping the flame alive sometimes just means shifting the fire.

Name the loss. Don’t minimize it. Let yourself grieve. But try not to stay in self-pity mode for long.

Remember: it’s not forever. Passions ebb and flow. You’ll come back. And maybe even stronger.

In the meantime, give yourself grace. You’re not being dramatic. You’re being human.

And if it feels like your world got smaller when you had to take a break — that’s because it did. You’re not making it up.

But it won’t stay that way. Your passion is patient. It’ll wait for you.

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