Hours ago, I felt the need to write something honest. Something about overwhelm. Because that’s all that I was capable of feeling. Writing anything else felt impossible.
But as I walked out of the office of the colony to lock up the farmhouse for the evening, I found myself locked out of the office. And the farmhouse. With my money, keys, computer, purse, and to-do list all locked inside.
I tried to break in with what I had, to no avail. I tried every door at the chance that one might be pried open. I stood there with my hands on my hips, perplexed and frustrated. In an effort to beat the overwhelm, I’d planned a long excursion to Nashville to run some errands, traffic be damned. Now, there was no chance of that happening. Even if I had my car to get there, I couldn’t buy the gas (or the things) that I was needing.
So I went home. I poured myself a big glass of wine. And I sat out in the sunshine and called my mom.
It turns out, when you’re overwhelmed, the best thing that can happen is something that creates an undeniable inability to do anything but sit and breathe.
As in, when you strip away all the things you “could” do, you find the things you should do. And you do them, because you have no other choice. You realize the other things are trivial, that they can wait, that you can still get in your car and drive home and just BE. It’s like a sign. It’s like an urging.
By the end of that phone conversation, the overwhelm was gone. Like magic. I called in Webb and we drove back over to the colony, where he was able to finagle his way in the door so we could retrieve my computer. So we could go home and sit in the yard and watch the goats play while the sun set.
So I could sit down, hit delete on all the old shit I wrote before, and write a whole new post from a much better place.
Apparently it is possible to beat overwhelm. You just can’t try at it. You have to let it happen all on its own.