We Are All Modern-Day Sisyphus (But We Don't Have to Be)
Bonus: I recorded a guided meditation to go with this Blog— a practice for meeting your mountain with acceptance instead of resistance. You may access it at the bottom of the blog.
I've been thinking about Albert Camus' retelling of The Myth of Sisyphus — a man condemned to push a boulder up a mountain for eternity, only to watch it roll back down each time.
The punishment isn't the labor itself.
It's the futility.
But Camus saw something else: the moment Sisyphus walks back down the mountain, fully aware that he'll do this forever, he becomes free — not because he enjoys the task, but because he stops fighting the reality of it.
That acceptance — not resignation, but clear-eyed seeing — is where his freedom lives.
The Modern Mountain
Today, burnout often looks like that mountain.
Only ours isn't made of stone —
it's made of to-do lists.
The emails that refill the moment you clear them. (Seriously, the moment.)
he caseload that never reaches "done."
The calendar that seems to have a personal vendetta against white space.
The invisible expectation to stay productive, regulated, always available.
The belief that "once I get through this week... then I'll rest."
Spoiler alert: that week never comes.
Mindfulness calls this striving — the relentless habit of treating life like a problem to be solved, a finish line to cross, one more task on the eternal to-do list to check off.
But what if the to-do list isn't actually the problem? What if the real work is seeing the mind's habit of leaning into the future, grasping for completion, and identifying with the role of "the one who must keep everything going"?
And like Sisyphus, we can exhaust ourselves fighting what is... or we can practice acceptance.
What Makes Modern Life Feel So Sisyphean?
Let me be more specific, because I see this every day in my therapy practice — and, honestly, in my own life too.
The therapist who finishes documentation at 10 PM, knowing tomorrow will bring another full caseload and three insurance authorizations to chase down. She thinks, "Once I catch up, I'll have breathing room." (Narrator voice: She never catches up.)
The working parent who finally gets the kids to bed, opens their laptop for "just an hour" of work, and looks up at midnight wondering where the evening went.
The professional who checks email on vacation because the anxiety of returning to 400 messages feels worse than never fully unplugging. (And then feels guilty about checking email on vacation because shouldn't they be relaxing?)
This is the modern boulder. And here's what makes it particularly sneaky: we believe the mountain is temporary. We tell ourselves it's just this season, just this project, just until things settle down.
But what if things never settle down? What if the mountain is just... the terrain we're walking?
(I know. Heavy stuff. But stick with me — there's good news coming.)
Acceptance Isn't Giving Up
When I talk to clients about acceptance, I often see their faces tighten. They hear "giving up." They hear "settling." They hear "becoming a doormat who lets life steamroll them."
But that's not what acceptance means in mindfulness. (And honestly, if acceptance meant "give up and become a doormat," I wouldn't be teaching it.)
In mindfulness, acceptance doesn't mean we stop caring or collapse into passivity.
It means we stop fighting reality.
We see the mountain for what it is.
We see ourselves for who we are — human, limited, never meant to hold the world together through sheer force of will (though many of us are trying).
We acknowledge: The list will never be done — there will always be more to do than time allows.
And in that clear seeing, something shifts.
The boulder stops being a measure of our worth.
The mountain stops being something we failed to conquer.
The endless task becomes... just a task.
When we accept what is — not what we wish it were, not what it "should" be — we stop wasting energy on the fight.
We reclaim the energy we've been pouring into resistance.
Acceptance creates space.
Space to choose.
Space to breathe.
Space to live, even while the work remains.
What Acceptance Actually Looks Like
Without acceptance:
"I should be able to handle all of this. Everyone else seems fine. What's wrong with me? I just need to work harder, be more organized, sleep less."
With acceptance:
"This is a lot. More than one person can reasonably handle. I'm doing what I can with the resources I have. Some things won't get done today, and that's just... reality."
Without acceptance:
"I can't believe I have 50 unread emails again. I cleared my inbox yesterday! This is never going to end."
With acceptance:
"The inbox refills. That's literally what it does. I can respond to what's urgent and let the rest wait. My worth isn't measured by inbox zero." (Also, inbox zero is a myth. Let it go.)
See the difference? Acceptance doesn't solve the problem. It changes your relationship to the problem.
The Freedom in Seeing Clearly
Camus imagined Sisyphus happy — not because the rock stopped rolling, but because he stopped believing it shouldn't.
Mindfulness offers the same invitation:
What if you didn't have to finish the list to be okay?
What if rest isn't something you earn, but something you weave into the climb?
What if your worth isn't measured by the summit, but by how you meet this moment?
Resilience isn't about pushing harder.
It's about stepping out of the fantasy that one day the mountain will be conquered — and choosing to live fully anyway, right here, in the middle of the climb.
Maybe the freedom Camus imagined isn't at the top of the mountain... but in the moment we accept that the boulder will always roll back down.
That acceptance isn't defeat.
It's the beginning of real freedom.
It's the shift from surviving your life to actually inhabiting it.
Practical Steps: Cultivating Acceptance in Daily Life
Acceptance is a practice, not a destination. Here are some ways to begin:
1. Notice the Striving Mind
Throughout your day, pause and ask: "Am I trying to solve something that can't be solved right now? Am I fighting reality?"
Common signs of striving:
Mentally rehearsing conversations that haven't happened
Catastrophizing about future scenarios
Replaying past events and wishing they had gone differently
Believing "once I just get through X, then I'll be okay"
2. Name What Is
Simple acknowledgment can be powerful. Try naming reality without judgment:
"I have more to do than I can finish today."
"I'm tired."
"This situation is difficult."
Just naming what's true, without trying to fix it immediately, is an act of acceptance.
3. Practice the "What Is" Pause
When you notice yourself stuck in striving or resistance, try this:
Pause. Take one breath.
Notice. What's happening right now? What sensations are present?
Ask. "What if this is exactly what's supposed to be happening right now?"
Choose. From this place of acceptance, what's the next wise action?
4. Create "Good Enough" Standards
Perfectionism is striving in disguise. Ask yourself:
"What would 'good enough' look like here?"
"What would happen if I stopped at 80% instead of pushing for 100%?"
Sometimes the most radical act of acceptance is declaring something "done" even when it could be better.
5. Build in Non-Negotiable Rest
If you're waiting for the list to be done before you rest, you'll never rest.
Instead:
Schedule rest like you schedule meetings
Practice resting before you're depleted
Notice the belief that "rest must be earned" and question it
Rest isn't the reward for finishing the mountain. It's fuel for the climb.
When Acceptance Feels Impossible
I want to acknowledge: some situations are genuinely unsustainable. Acceptance doesn't mean staying in toxic work environments, accepting abuse, or martyring yourself.
If your basic needs aren't being met, your health is deteriorating, or you're experiencing harm, then acceptance might mean accepting that reality and making different choices. Sometimes acceptance leads to boundary-setting, job changes, or asking for help.
Acceptance isn't passive tolerance. It's clear-eyed acknowledgment that allows for wise action.
Coming Home to This Moment
The myth of Sisyphus isn't really about a boulder.
It's about what we do with the awareness that life contains endless tasks, responsibilities, and challenges. It's about whether we spend our lives resisting that reality or learning to meet it with grace (and maybe a little humor).
Camus wrote: "The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
Mindfulness adds: The walk back down the mountain — that space between efforts, that moment of awareness — is where the happiness lives.
Not at the top.
Not when it's finished.
But here, in the middle, in the acceptance of what is.
That's where we come home.
If this resonates with you, this is the kind of work I do with clients in mindfulness-based therapy and coaching — exploring how acceptance transforms the way we relate to stress, burnout, and modern life's endless demands. Reach out if you'd like to talk.
Bonus: I recorded a guided meditation to go with this article — a practice for meeting your mountain with acceptance instead of resistance. You can listen to it here on the blog.
References
Brewer, J. (2021). Unwinding Anxiety: New Science Shows How to Break the Cycles of Worry and Fear to Heal Your Mind. Avery.
Camus, A. (1955). The Myth of Sisyphus. Vintage Books.
Hölzel, B. K., Carmody, J., Vangel, M., Congleton, C., Yerramsetti, S. M., Gard, T., & Lazar, S. W. (2011). Mindfulness practice leads to increases in regional brain gray matter density. Psychiatry Research: Neuroimaging, 191(1), 36-43.
