Feeling overwhelmed is the pits. It feels like there is so much coming at you that you are drowning, you are powerless, you are rendered incapable of even thinking clearly. Which makes overwhelm extremely tricky, because how can you make good decisions in the grips of something that causes confusion? It’s like Carrie Matheson trying to do espionage when she’s off her meds on Homeland—it’s harrowing.
As much as you may tell yourself that it’s just the nature of modern life—with its information overload—or your life—with all its complexities and competing priorities—to be overwhelming, it’s just not true.
Overwhelm is not a state of being that you have to simply accept.
My kids spent the past weekend at my Dad’s house. It was heaven! They had a great time, and my husband and I had that most precious commodity—down time. Or rather, a chance to choose how we spent every minute of our time. For me, that included cleaning out the basement, going to Lowe’s to buy patio umbrellas and cooking a Sunday dinner that only appealed to grown-up palates. We also went out to dinner (Ken’s Ramen, delish) and to a party downtown on Saturday night. It was a delectable glimpse of our once and future lives. (It also flew by, but that is not the point of this post.)
At the party I chatted with a woman who didn’t have kids and who works as a personal chef. We bonded over our gluten intolerance and our respective husband’s recent injuries. I honestly didn’t expect to ever see her again as she lived a few towns away, and one of the jokes about Rhode Island is that because it’s such a small state, people start to think even short distances are entirely too far to travel.
Two years ago, I wrote a blog post called “How I Stopped Hating My Husband, and You Can Too.” It is still getting comments to this day, because people are Googling “I hate my husband.” As sad as the thought of people typing “I hate myself” into a search box is, it happens. And I hope this post will help when it does. If you found this because you searched “I hate myself,” welcome, you’re in the right place.
I have a love/hate relationship with my hair. Curly since the day it first appeared, it never went into smooth, shiny pigtails in elementary school, or feathered in middle school, or tossed effortlessly over my shoulder in high school or college.
I made a kind of peace with it as an adult, even as I continually toyed with the cut. It’s been short, long, and everything in between at least three times in the two decades. Then I had my second child and turned 40, and my hair changed. It got finer, crispier. Certain sections lost their curl. It took me five years to find a style that suited this new entity.
You know: Your gut, your inner wisdom, what you know to be true. Because when you rekindle that connection to your higher Self, everything starts flowing and feeling juicy and exciting again. Kind of like falling in love. =)
In just 10 short days, I’m bringing back my tried-and-true-yet-still-improved Kate’s Reboot Camp. This program is my way of taking all the basic elements that I cover in my private coaching and make it affordable and accessible to more people. If you’ve ever thought Gee, I’d like some guidance on how to start doing more of the things that matter but the timing hasn’t been right for hiring a coach, this is your chance to get a majority of the benefits at a fraction of the cost! Read more…
There was a time in my life when I had backed myself into quite a corner. I had just had my second (and last) baby, and I was miserable. Post-pregnancy hormone swings and sleepless nights aside, I was creating the vast majority of that misery all on my own.
How was I doing this? By writing checks with my heart that my mind couldn’t cash.
For example, I was dying for more sleep, but I was drinking 2-3 glasses of wine each night—which, for me, is a surefire recipe for middle-of-the-night insomnia. I longed for a full three months maternity leave, but I couldn’t say no to freelance writing gigs that landed in my inbox—so I worked and hated every minute of it. I was insistent that my husband share the load of household work and family care, but I wouldn’t allow him to soothe our kids when they got fussy—meaning I put him in a situation he couldn’t possibly succeed in and then picked fights when I perceived him to be slacking.
It was a real low point.
If you ask people what their favorite day of the week is, most will say Friday, Saturday or Sunday, for obvious reasons. While I love a weekend, these days are not my favorite days. That honor is reserved for Tuesday.
Because that’s my writing day. No client calls, no networking lunches. Not even any school pick-ups. The hours from 9-5 are mine, all mine. I even have my office – which I share with a fellow local entrepreneur – all to myself, as my officemate spends Tuesdays in an office in Boston.
Let me tell you, it is heaven.
The thing I’m talking about is missing from so many people’s lives—yes, probably yours too. And it’s a darn shame, too, because this one thing is the equivalent of a huge beam of love from the universe. Worst of all, it’s only missing because we don’t allow ourselves to experience it.
Otherwise known as deep sorrow (according to Merriam-Webster’s), grief is derived from an Old French word that means “to burden.”
We all think of grief as what we feel when someone dies, but it can accompany any loss, including: Read more…
I’ve been working on some goodies for you and I’m so excited to share them with you! All free, all excellent, all straight from the heart of some of my favorite people. But before I share, I just have to tell you about a conversation I had with my #tinyguru, aka my daughter, Lillian.
Last weekend, Lil was invited to a birthday party with a spy theme. It sounded so cool. There was going to be a treasure hunt!
She didn’t want to go, though. My kids LOVE being home on weekend days, staying in their jammies, messing around in the yard, playing with their toys. They are introverts, like their momma. =)
So I reminded her about the treasure hunt.
Let’s pretend you’re cruising along through your life and things are going swell. And then something wacky happens out of the blue. Your boiler implodes. You fall and break your ankle (or your husband does). You get a big tax bill. You get a new boss. Your car breaks down.
That’s all bad stuff, right?
I mean, yes, it would make perfect sense if you triggered when any of these things happened. But here’s the thing:
Life is happening for you, not to you. (Click to Tweet!)
If you can entertain this simple principle—even better if you can accept it, but sometimes you have to start with simply trying it on—then there is no bad luck.
Q: I have a day job as a counselor at a clinic. It’s OK as jobs go—it is a fairly steady income (although if clients don’t show, I don’t get paid) and I do get to share my specialty, which is approaching therapy from a more spiritual, holistic perspective. But I want and need to make more money. Recently, I have had two former clients contact me—out of the blue–and ask if we could work together again, even though I’ve moved a few states away and we’d have to do our sessions over the phone. I said yes because I know these people and I know they’re motivated. But I’m also nervous that if I start supporting more people on the side that I’ll get burned out. I already feel depleted after a day at the clinic. Perhaps a part-time job that I don’t care about would be better, so that I don’t take it home with me at the end of the day?