I've recently had a period of feeling very burdened by things. My kids, my house, my work, my projects - all the stuff I love the most.
I have an inbox full of decisions to make, with people on the other end awaiting answers. I open them a few times a day to stare at them for a while. There's a dozen tabs I keep open. I've got a list running in the back of my head that waits until a quiet moment (a walk, or a chat with a friend) to loudly pierce the peace with HEY REMEMBER YOU STILL NEED TO...
The difference between busy and burdened
I know by now that while busy is fine, burdened is not. Busy says: there's lots of things to do, so let's make a plan. Burdened says: it's all impossible there's nothing you can do you're trapped and everything will fall apart if you try to escape.
Busy is a sign for me to enlist support and get organised. Burdened is a sign to pause and poke a little deeper. It's information that something else is clouding my perspective. Busyness inspires agency and creativity, but burden leeches it.
Burden is a signal
The people I know who feel the most burdened aren't weak, not a little bit. They're capable, passionate, responsible individuals - and they're dragging around a big sack. The sack is heavy with ideas, expectations and obligations, which they collected for earlier versions of themselves - versions with different goals and needs, surviving in different environments.
I've been in business for over a decade, and in the time, I've collected all sorts of things in Alicia's Life and Business Sack. IP. Workflows. Systems. Programmes. Platforms. Ideas. Relationships. Habits. Identities. Expectations. Hell, I reckon I've got a few other people's sacks in there, mixed in with mine.
Over the last year, with a short sabbatical, and a shift toward slower, deeper, more creative work, some of the things in my sack have sagged and moulded. They're not the right things anymore. Not for where I am, and not for where I'm going.
When people and projects I love start to feel like a burden, this is information: Alicia, mate, your sack's a bit heavy. Time for a rummage. Let's freshen up or chuck out some of these old stories. Like this one, about what a good person does, or this one, about what you might need to keep 'just in case', or this one, about what you owe people, and what you need to stay safe.
Rummaging through the sack
To extend or possibly confuse the metaphor, there's stuff crammed into the middle of my sack that's like the work clothes at the back of my wardrobe: a bit tired, and slightly out of fashion. They don't fit me properly anymore, and they're not the right style for current day me. They were perfect for workshops and office environments once upon a time, but these days I turn up to most things in a black t-shirt and jeans. A black blazer does the job when needed, maybe a belt if I'm going crazy.
They're good things, those clothes. They cost a fortune, or certainly felt like it when I bought them. Besides, what if I need to be Pencil Skirt Alicia again? (Perish the thought.) Each item was thoughtfully acquired, and they were the right things, back then. But now it's probably time to hand them on to someone else, take a trip to the metaphorical and literal Sallies.
Dig a bit deeper in the sack and underneath the work clothes, composting a little, are some of my oldest things. I've saved these ones from my teen years and childhood. There's some survival trinkets in there. A ring binder filled with important notes. Photos. Ticket stubs. These are hard to sort through, harder than the work clothes. Sorting these out means I'll get stuck on the floor in a pile of detritus, flooded with memories and nostalgia. But there's only so much room in the sack.
Lightening the load
When things feel uncertain, it's tempting to grip the sack a little tighter. Throw it over your shoulder and lumber on. There's too much going on right now to even think about a clean-out, and besides, you might need some of that soon.
Whether you're fretting about the future of your job, things have shifted at home, or you're simply changing as a person, your instinct might be to GRAB THAT SACK! You might get that panicky feeling in your gut and practically leap into the sack. Hide from the world. Cling tightly to everything you've done, made, and collected over the years.
I get it. Some of the stuff is bloody important, so let's not set it all on fire.
But there might be a few things to turf out, to make space what's coming next. You're carrying a few things you don't need. Not now. Not where you're going.
Til next week,
-AM
