Your overwhelmed spirit will whisper to you before it screams
How the search for my lost phone was a clue that I needed a change
Hi friend,
A couple months ago I was on my way out the door to a visit with family when I realized I had misplaced my phone.
I checked all the usual spots: my purse, my leggings pocket, my coat pocket.
No phone.
As I searched, I found myself getting more and more flustered and amped up in the pursuit. Striding sweatily from room to room, I gave quick and cursory checks of highly-improbable places—under the bed, in drawers, on chairs upon which I rarely sit—while failing to thoroughly inspect much-more-likely locations, like between the cushions of the sofa where I’d in fact just been sitting.
The hunt spiraled until it became clear there was no point continuing, and I finally left without my phone. When I got home, I found it within five minutes—in the crack between the sofa cushions, exactly where I should have known it would be if I’d felt able to take a moment to think.
When the simple search for an often-used object goes this haywire for me, it’s a sign. It’s bad enough when I “lose” an object that I use approximately fifteen dozen times a day, but it’s a sure symptom of mental and emotional overwhelm when even the process of looking for the lost object feels disjointed and crazed.
My mind goes into hyperdrive, so full that it doesn’t even register relevant details, like the fact that the last time I used my phone I was - oh yeah - sitting on the sofa. And when I can’t seem to get my body and brain in sync long enough to take a breath and lift a cushion, it’s usually because the drumbeat of “I-don’t-have-time” has hijacked both my mental acuity and my motor skills.
I need white space in my life, and in that moment, I had none—mentally, emotionally, or logistically.
Within a few weeks of that dizzying day, I set changes in motion to correct the situation, making a drastic decision to open up some much-needed breathing room in my life. (I’ll write more about that soon, but it looked like quitting a job with no plans to replace it.)
And I did it just in time, too. This week’s essay is coming to you (a little late) from the Chicago suburbs, from the guest bedroom of my Aunt Paula, who made a sudden decision to move to Florida to live with our uncle in the wake of worsening health.
My siblings and some of our children and I descended upon our aunt’s house last weekend to help ready her house for sale, to help prepare her for a move, and to help prepare ourselves for a big change.
Since I can remember, Aunt Paula’s nearby presence has been a constant, her home a soft place to land. Here, my siblings and I can still feel like kids, no matter how many kids we have between us (nearly twenty.) Aunt P is one of very few remaining elder relatives we still have with us, and her absence will mark the end of an era for us.
My sister and I will be here for another day or two, helping to tie up loose ends and just soak up a little more of a feeling we have always taken for granted—but that’s quickly coming to an end.
I’m grateful I was able to be fully present for this experience, instead of feeling pulled in a million directions. I’m glad I completely lost track of my phone—in a calm, planned way this time—for an entire day of packing and moving and laughing and crying with my family.
I’m relieved that as soon as I shut this laptop after hitting “publish” on this post, I’ll have the white space I need to give this situation the attention it deserves.
Sometimes, when we’re head-down just powering through life, we don’t realize just how short we are on space to breathe. Sometimes something seemingly small and insignificant - like a lost phone and a bungled search - can clue us in to how much we need to make a change…if we pay attention to it.
The initial signs that our lives have become unmanageable may look a lot more like a whisper than a scream, but we can’t ignore them forever.
I’ve ignored those whispers like that many times in the past, until the clue that finally got my notice was much larger, more dramatic, and more painful. What a blessing that, this time, I paid attention to the “small” sign so I was then able to open up space in time to be present for something important.
I’ll return with updates on all of the above soon, but for now, here are a couple things you may have missed.
In Case You Missed It:
Last week’s podcast episode was all about 7 simple ways to welcome the season this spring - from overhauling your skincare routine to changing up walking habits and more. Look for The Tea’s Made with Meagan Francis wherever you listen to podcasts, or you can just click the Spotify player below and listen right here.
We’re welcoming spring in our So-Slow Book Club this week, in a discussion thread open to all. Join in the conversation to discuss: what does the line “life doing what life does” mean in your world?
Here’s hoping that your life is full of the white space you need right now, friend. I’ll catch up with you soon.
It's wonderful you could be there for and with your aunt. These bittersweet times are so...everything.
This is so good! Thank you for sharing! It’s similar to the pull I’ve been talking about in my own writing too.