Overwhelmed
As humans, we are limited beings. We have numerous constraints on what's possible, physically and mentally.
These constraints can frustrate us as we butt up against our limitations and daydream of surpassing them. But these constraints aren't inherently bad, in fact the boundaries they set in place provide the space necessary for creation.
Our brains come as they are. Basic, with some core functionality programmed in and sizeable space for custom code to be installed.
Like AI, we learn from inference. We spot patterns and develop rules. Those rules are gradually etched into our long-term memory, until enough repetition or strength of experience has passed that they persist over a long period of time.
But like computers, we have working memory too. The short-term processing used to keep the here-and-now important stuff top of mind.
If you're anything like me, you're always processing something. Those something’s add up. There's the smaller items, those found on our mental to-do list, items that need seeing to but are finite and actionable: completing that assignment for our boss, finding a therapist, writing this post.
Then there are the bigger items: deciding whether to get married, plotting out the next few of years of our career, wrestling with existentialism and attempting to get a foothold on our remarkable human experience.
These all add up. The smaller ones come and go soon enough, the larger stick around for a while, seeming to shrink and grow over time. Often they're simply bubbling up or sinking down, appearing bigger as they rise to the surface.
It might not seem it at first, but the continual flow of all of this movement is beautiful. It's a gift, to have a dynamic sphere to operate in, and a level of power to wield within it.
But the constraints, the otherness, the I-didn't-set-the-rules-of-this-game frustration, don’t always feel like a gift. Oftentimes it can all just feel overwhelming. Like a cup full to the brim, our internal capacity can spill over as life continues on and more and more flows into our already messy inbox.
The signals keep coming. The challenges never stop. The questions to be answered and problems to resolve won't end whilst our machine is powered on. And that's a good thing.
It's good as it's the very essence of being alive. We need these limitations, and we need challenges to get our teeth into. We're creative, problem solving beings, and we need both the space to create and the problems within it to live out our purpose, to be fulfilled.
But sometimes, in the midst of it all, we run out of capacity.
I haven't played this game long enough to know all of its secrets, but in times like this there seem a few major paths ahead.
Firstly, to remain overwhelmed, to admit defeat, to let some tasks drop from memory, to fail, 404, blue screen, spinny wheel of death.
Alternatively, we can say no. We can reject new opportunities, trusting more will come our way down the line. We can prioritise what we have, and readjust our existing commitments. We can close for business for a while. “Sorry sir, there's no more room at the inn, but feel free to sign up to my waiting list, I'll get back to you someday, maybe.”
Better yet, we can create space. To park some tasks and slap a label of "unimportant" / "resolve later". To triage our inbox and outsource what we find to an external memory storage solution, be it a to-do list, a knowledge base, or a note scrawled on the freezer door. By transferring the item to another system we can free up much needed real estate in the one place we can’t buy more land, our heads.
Lastly, we can resolve. Big challenges are hard to complete and that bigness can feel scary. That's why you probably need to have that conversation with that significant other that you've been putting off for what seems like forever, and why everyone who can afford it (and more of us can than we realise) should get a therapist.
Chipping away at the problem by taking that first step, that's a brave thing to do.
Resolution is inherently the most effective way to deal with being overwhelmed, but it's not always obvious how to go about it.
The important first step is self-awareness. Feeling the claustrophobic, no-space-left sensation and peeking under the hood. Taking stock of what's taking up your limited, human, here-I-am-now thinking, then deciding what to do about it.
Sometimes we can create space and outsource the task to another storage system. Other times we need to shut up shop for a while. But often there's an action we can take, a step in the right direction, a conversation, an email, a google search, a just-give-me-five-minutes-of-space-so-I-can-sort-my-shit-out moment of space to carve out. A way to chip away at the big thing, day by day, until one day it's not so big anymore.
We didn't create the rules of this game, and we don't get to control which level we're playing or whether we've got a full health bar or one that's desperately depleted.
We can get angry at the creator, or we can be grateful that the game exists at all, that somehow, against all odds, we spawned as a character, that our domain is large but not infinite, and that there's space here to create.
Unlike computers, we can't simply buy more RAM. Instead our task is to optimise the programs we're running, and to quit those we no longer need.
Whatever path we choose, it’s ok to feel overwhelmed, being overwhelmed is part of the human condition.
The question isn't who’s to blame, it's what are we going to do about it?
If even contemplating doing something about it fills you with dread, talk to someone. There are more people who care than you realise.