There is such thing as too much. I’ve said yes to too much and I’m absolutely exhausted. I said yes because, mostly, I wanted to, but maybe a little because I didn’t want to disappoint. But it’s too much. And now I’m not enjoying the things that are important to me. I’m tired when I wake up and tired when I go to sleep. Sure, some of that’s just parenting small children, but they’re also some of the best parts of my day. They still run to the front door to hug and kiss me when I get home. They give the best hugs.
I’m eating too much and gaining weight. I grabbed some clothes off the free table at my moms group this week. I think they’ll fit and look cute, but I don’t need them. I’m supposed to get rid of as many pieces as I bring in, and I didn’t have it in me to make the decision. I just put the clothes in the drawers. More stuff. I’m so tired.
My husband and I have been debating travel plans and home-buying plans. I love planning. It calms my anxiety. It increases his, which makes this co-leading of a household a bit of work. To be fair, it is also a balance. I really dislike his reluctance to get excited about the plans I want to make, but, so many times, he’s been right to wait and tempered in his excitement. I still don’t like it. I want to spend so much money this year on travel. He wants to look at home-buying again. We can’t do both. I’ll admit it’s fun to look on Zillow at homes in the neighborhoods near us – the ones we could afford (we think) and the ones we couldn’t. It’s insane what housing prices are in southern California right now. It’s also confounding how some people live in their homes. Normal is apparently a much broader range than originally imagined.
We’re just looking, dreaming. I was relieved to discover I could recognize too much. At least in this one aspect of my life. There’s such a thing as too much house or too much land for me. I don’t want 5 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. I don’t want to furnish 5 bedrooms or buy giant patio furniture for the veranda and backyard deck and front porch. I don’t want to hire staff to help me maintain my home. I don’t want staff.
There’s a profound comfort in having an upper limit, in identifying what is too much. Only so many pieces of clothing. Only so much square footage. Only so many calories to consume and activities to pursue. It’s a relief to know that it’s possible to be sated and satisfied. Content. Often, limitations are viewed as weaknesses. I, more than I want to, ignore my limitations and try to force myself to be better, do more, strive harder, push farther. I end up exhausted, depressed, and physically sick. I may say, and even believe, that by doing more I’m trying to “be all I can be” and “serve sacrificially” and “grow,” but it’s pride and it’s fear. I hate that I can’t handle everything. I despise being dependent on God right up until I admit that I am. I want control until I realize I’m terrible with it. I’m so afraid of disappointing God, of being insignificant, of being a drain on society, of not pulling my weight, of being judged by others.
This past month I’ve done a ton. Honestly, most of it, I did really well. But my enjoyment of my life is decreasing and my sense of purpose is not increasing. My connection to God is fraying. I’ve been so focused on doing — for God and for others — but so little with God and that’s just not what being Christian is about. Christ’s work within me should (and has in the past) produce what the Bible calls the Fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control. The distinct lack of silos full of peace and gentleness and self-control in my life means I’m way off track. My life is productive and I’m doing good work, but doing it without God is unsustainable. Life abundant is not the same thing as a life of excess. It is a life of enough.
Sometimes I keep going out of guilt. I know there are people out there who are just as exhausted, but lack the means to let go. They don’t have a spouse with a good-paying job, or a community who will support them. I don’t know how they do it and it breaks my heart. I know I have an “easy” life, a beautiful life. I can’t believe I’m so overwhelmed. I’ve been such a fool. But I’d be a fool to keep going. More is not always better. It’s time to let go of too much.