Dissolving Overwhelm
I’m now about a week into my trip to Japan — one that I was both excited about and also dreaded.
This trip has been in the making for about a year, shortly after I knew my daughter, son-in-law, and two grandsons would be moving to Sasesbo, Japan, in July 2022, because of my son-in-law’s orders. He’s a Chief Petty Officer 2 in the Navy.
In October, when the regulations for travel to Japan had eased, my daughter offered the official invitation to visit. Within hours, my friend Ginger, who had been counting on this trip, had chosen our flights and sketched out our itinerary — four nights in Tokyo, two nights in Kyoto, and ten nights in Sasebo, then a night back in Tokyo before flying back to the states. We chose dates from March 17 to April 4 which also happened to coincide with my grandsons’ spring break and ensured that I was in the states for my oldest granddaughter’s seventh birthday.
In October, March seemed a long way away. About that time, I began planning business activities for 2023, primarily a year-long program, Write Books That Change the World, to assist my clients with manuscript development and completion, increase their visibility while writing their books, move through the production process, and also learn how to pitch podcasts and speaking engagements. I was eager to bring this program altogether because I knew it offered all the elements anyone writing a book — or thinking about it — would need to make their efforts a success.
The launch of the program was delayed numerous times by my bout with covid, snowstorms and power outages that my team experienced, and then technical difficulties. About a month before our departure for Japan, the landing page was finally in place, and I began doing LinkedIn Lives — Fireside Chats to describe the process that I take my clients through to ensure that they have success. I had conversations with the Guest Experts who will be joining me to share their expertise on writing copy for social media posts to attract attention while writing books, staying organized, pitching podcasts, finding speaking engagements, and much more. I also interviewed several clients who shared their expertise and the “why” behind their decisions to write a book.
There were times when I was so exhausted at the end of the day that I fell asleep on the sofa, propped up by my partner’s shoulder. That added to my stress because I felt like I wasn’t giving him the attention he deserved before leaving him for three weeks. He was totally on board with my plans and encouraged me to thoroughly enjoy my trip, I might add.
Yet, I was on overwhelm, and my anxiety was off the charts. I wasn’t sleeping and barely found time to do my three-mile walks and yoga. My self-care had slipped. Thankfully, I was still meditating and doing my Wim Hof breathing.
The morning of our flight arrived, and I began settling down. I’d tucked my clients in. My team had continued marketing efforts scheduled, and I set the intention to receive the peaceful energy of Japan and be in the moment, open to new adventures.
Once on the plane, I skimmed my emails and saw one from Steven Kotler, Founder of the Flow Research Collective, on “The Overwhelm Fallacy.” It drew my attention like a moth to a flame.
He says, “The overwhelm fallacy is the idea that overwhelm is driven by an extreme sense of urgency. Everything feels insanely urgent. If we don’t do X, Y and Z right now, we’re toast. Our business will fail, we’ll go bankrupt and the world will melt! But this is what they call ‘catastrophizing’ in cognitive behavioral therapy.”
Spot on! Those were the thoughts that were keeping me up at night. How could I step away now with all that was going on?
He adds, “This sense of extreme urgency is actually a cognitive distortion and an irrational thought pattern, driven by the overwhelm. To mitigate this, get clear on what is actually urgent. It all feels urgent, but which of the things that are overwhelming you right now really are urgent? Determine that. Make a list. Prioritize and then execute.”
In reality, I had done all I could to ensure the success of my program. I’d enlisted my team and my supporters. I sent emails and posted on social media. I hosted LinkedIn Lives — all while tending to my current clients' needs.
My priority had to be my trip — and the visit to my family. I wanted to see where they lived and how they lived.
Within a couple of days in Japan, the overwhelm ceased. Awe and wonder took its place. The sites of ancient temples and the blooming sakura melted away my worries. I was up with the sun and eager to go exploring each day. The Goddess of Wild Adventures had been reawakened in me — and I intended to experience the sites, sounds, and flavors of this kind and peaceful culture. And I did. I walked and ate my way around Tokyo, logging over 23,000 steps on two occasions, and savored dishes not normally on my menu. Instead of coffee upon awakening, I sipped green tea. My body was rejoicing and my muse was in celebration.
That’s when the idea for this blog came about — and the outline for the family history I want to write to ensure my grandchildren know the fibers of which their lives have been woven. I recognized how upon my return, I’m to spend more time in meditation and contemplation, and less on the “doing.” I’m not to pack every moment of every day with an activity that only increases my overwhelm. And I was reminded that I chose this profession because no one will die if a project slips or a deadline is missed by a few days. It will get done. It always has and always will. I had to trust in divine choreography.
After traveling from Kyoto to Sasebo, Ginger and I were greeted by my grandsons at the train station where we had our first hug in about eight months. They took our luggage and moments later, we arrived at the car where my daughter was waiting.
Setting into our abode for the next ten days, I can’t even catch a glimpse of the overwhelm that had seen me off on my trip. I’m sleeping through the night and present in each moment. The walking and eating our way around Japan continues, only now with my grandsons and my daughter by my side guiding us through our adventures.
And now, as I’m sipping my green tea and about to pour another cup, the family is stirring — and it’s time to see what this day will offer.
