I started with one candle. A good candle. A respectable candle. The kind that understands boundaries and clocks out at a reasonable hour.

Then I lit both ends.

At first, it felt efficient—heroic, even. Look at me, doubling productivity. Twice the light. Twice the ambition. Somewhere, a motivational poster nodded in approval.

But candles, it turns out, are terrible at hustle culture.

The top candle burned hot and proud, flames flaring like it had something to prove. Wax dripped down in thick, dramatic globs—evidence of progress, or at least movement. Below it, another candle burned faithfully, catching the fallout, quietly thinking, This feels personal.

That’s when I realized the problem.

Burning the candle at both ends doesn’t just mean working late and waking early. It means melting yourself to keep the lights on for everyone else. It means your best energy drips downward, landing on the part of you that was already doing its job: the tired part, the just get through today part.

From a distance, the setup looks impressive. Three flames. Lots of light. Very productive. But get closer and you’ll notice the candle in the middle thinning out, losing its shape, wondering when it agreed to be structural support.

Nobody tells you that candles don’t get bonus points for burning faster. There’s no award for Most Dramatic Flame While Quietly Collapsing. There’s just a puddle at the end, and a faint smell of regret.

Eventually, the top candle burns down to a stub—proud, but exhausted. The bottom candle is half-buried in wax, still standing because it doesn’t know how to quit. And the middle? The middle is gone—used up in the name of efficiency.

That’s when it hits you: light is only useful if it lasts long enough to see where you’re going.

So now I light one end. Sometimes I don’t light it at all. Sometimes I sit in the dark and let my eyes adjust.

Turns out, not burning yourself out is the brightest idea of all.

Closing thought:
Knowing when to light the candle is just as important as knowing when to blow it out. Some moments deserve the flame—the late-night push, the extra effort, the quiet determination that carries you through something meaningful. But not every hour needs illumination. Rest isn’t laziness; it’s maintenance. If you burn constantly, you don’t shine brighter—you disappear faster. Save the light for what matters, protect the wick, and remember: a candle that lasts can still be there tomorrow.

There’s more waiting at https://xinkblotz.com. Telling stories, sharing thoughts, and drinking coffee. A blend of fiction, reflection, and whatever’s brewing – one post at a time.