The Merry-Go-Round of Overwhelm
it's time to practice what I preach and what I know to be true
Per usual, a recent conversation with my kid made me do some internal vacuuming. Just yesterday while driving my son (a junior in high school) to his basketball practice he told me about the one-hour meeting he had earlier that day with his school guidance counselor. Their talk centered around the “so what do you want next” talk.
Last week, while on school break, we visited three potential colleges. He told his counselor about one particular school that felt like it clicked. A right sized fit. While getting to know the campus, I explored my son’s face. I saw the click turn on in his eyes. The flicker of, “I could see this place molding into me.”
As is always the case, a great conversation took place in the short while we were in the car yesterday. I have learned to bring things up here - my kids are WAY more forthcoming when I am forced to watch the road and steer. There is something about having less direct eye contact and the movement of the car that tends to move and steer us more towards openness. It makes me think about how in the baby years I would often have to strap him into his car seat and go for a ride to get the kid to relax enough to sleep!
In the short 15-minute ride, on the topic of how to know which college feels right, I said, “you’ll know what pulls you in. You’ll feel in in your gut.” I was trying to convey to him how oftentimes when something fits it’s a quiet knowing that will keep coming back each time you visit the thing. That likely he’ll know it and hear it more as he visits different schools. That measuring of “what feels right for me.”
After he hopped out of the car, I drove home in silence thinking about the quiet knowing. The things that keep circling back to me, poking my insides. Like water circling the sink but never quite draining out.
It was this sort of quiet knowing that led me to sobriety. Which led me towards the great work of taking an honest inventory of my insides. From there came the question: how can I best care for myself (and therefore others)? The answers that bubbled up led me to writing which was/is how I found and find my path back to all of it. All of my knowing.
Why am I going on about this? Because lately I have a persistent whisper. A voice on my shoulder, tapping and saying - hey, time to work on that book proposal. Write the book proposal that you keep putting in the category of “someday.”
This may sound wild, but I’ll share it anyway. I have this muse that wakes me in the night with words and fragments and ideas. They literally wake me up in the wee hours of the night and downloads shift me awake. I’ve come to realize that this book that I know is inside of me likes to stretch out big in my body at night. Its words poke at my ribs and my heart and my eyes flutter open hearing its whispers. I don’t curse it for waking me up. I thank it, jot down the part that pushed through in my journal that sits on my nightstand, flip the pillow and lay my cheek on the other side.
I thank that muse every time. It’s beginning to feel like a lullaby.
Maybe I am hearing more of its refrain right now because I am re-reading Stephen Cope’s The Great Work of Your Life (sooooooo good!) I first picked this book up two years ago and walking through it a second time, things are CLICKING.
Perhaps the most well-known quote from the book is this powerful one, which is actually from the Gospel of Thomas:
If you bring forth what is within you, it will save you; if you do not bring forth what is within you, it will destroy you.
So, through this lens, I am hearing my nightly muse and its accompanying whispers. But when I look right at it and hear it out, doing so leads me to looking at and holding a word that feels like 500 pounds.
Capacity
How much am I capable of holding/doing/pursuing? In a day, in a week, in a month, this year?
I pride myself on fiercely protecting everything I have learned in recovery, particularly the tools of how to take care of my needs so that I can function well out in this world. When I’m not loving myself fully, I am not able to love others fully. It’s just the way it is. This is more than “put the oxygen mask on first” sort of thing. This is about functioning to my fullest truest self. It is about me not picking up things that aren’t mine to carry. It’s me not giving in to my overzealous brain in overperforming so that I feel needed/wanted/validated. It’s about recognizing when I whip myself back to patterned ways of performing/doing - burdening my mind so much that my mental load becomes one long list of ingredients for the recipe of an accomplished day. But what does all that doing really accomplish?
It feels like the opposite of the gentle knowing. It pulls me away from that gut feeling of being aligned and attuned.
So, I’m here to say that I am going to pivot things a bit. I am going to listen to the quietness in me that is nudging me to begin that book proposal. And that means I have to set down some things - one being a weekly post on Substack. I will still post on Fridays but will alternate new content with old. I have picked up some new subscribers these last few months, so I thought perhaps if I re-post/share older pieces, it might be a nice way for them to catch up. I will begin this rotation next Friday and be back the following Friday with a new essay.
And for my beloved Wednesday crew of paid subscribers, we’ll still meet virtually on the last Wednesday of each month (something I am beginning to cherish!) and I’ll slide in with a little something else on the other 3 weeks. I’m thinking excerpts from the proposal I’m working on (?)
For a while, I had this grandiose vision of jumping all in here in May with a parenting theme - because Mother’s Day. I was going to display 4 essays on parenting/mothering/reparenting, etc. But then I sat with it and said, what better way to honor and mother myself than to unburden my mental load? And move towards what feels like my next right move?
This is also the season my law practice kicks things up in a higher gear. I’m in real estate and it is in May - August that the volume tends to ramp up. This weekend, between my two kids we have six basketball tournament games to attend, and one travel soccer game thrown in the mix. So, there is no time for writing. Weekends are when I consciously try to step back and pull out of it all so that I can step into the worlds of the two that matter most to me.
So, here I am - surrendering to my overwhelm AND sharing my excitement over starting something that burns deep in me.
Thank you for listening/reading/being with me.
Sharing this right now feels fitting:
and this quote - which I have on my desk:
Let’s watch each other get bigger. Grow into that thing that is within us.
Oh, and this SONG! I was introduced to it this week and I cannot stop listening. The lyrics rip right into my heart. It’s all about compassion, grace and how we can best love one another, in all our wounded wonderful ways. And the song has a Dan Folgelberg vibe that just warms me up.
BEFORE I GO:
Question: Do you like a challenge? I do! Would you like some accountability in regularly posting here on Substack? Me too. Check out the Sparkle on Substack Essay Club where you can find this cute badge:
All you have to do is commit to write (up to) 24 essays each by January 31st 2025. Here is my #2 of 24. Join
and her fun vibe for some collective writing inspiration.
NOW IT’S YOUR TURN:
~How do you handle overwhelm when it bubbles up for you?
~Is there a muse that lives in you - reminding you of your inner knowing? How do you tune in?
If something spoke to you here, would you consider sharing it or passing it on? This weekly letter is my labor of love. Your word of recommendation helps grow my reader community and helps expand my heart.
If you enjoyed reading this piece, please do send me some hearts,
comment,
or restack
Get it Allison!!! I am here for it and cheering you on every step!! Lots of great reminders in this piece for me- thank you for that ☺️. Looking forward to hearing more about this book!
Allison, my soul sister, how attuned we are. If you have time to hop over to my essay today about pledging to live in my Zone of Genius (and how this book by Gay Hendricks complements the Stephen Cope book that I also write about and which we read together two years ago), you will see how aligned we are. I am so so SO proud of you for taking this step of stepping back from your Substack weekly commitment to focus on a book proposal. Absolutely do it. Listen to your calling. Don't waste another minute (And yes, I am saying this as much for myself as for you!) As always, this is beautifully written. I love the way you advised your son as he makes this big decision, listening to his gut, what a great mom you are. I resonate so deeply with the quiet knowing. And I am cheering you on. Also, do direct message me as I have some resources on writing book proposals that might be useful to you. Go, Allison! Oh, and I am so glad you love "Crack the Case." But I have to give credit where credit is due. It was on one of Laura McKowen's playlists in the Bigger Yes course from 2022. Of course it was, right?