People are using the word “overwhelm” a lot lately.
They feel overwhelmed by world events and headlines, government goings-on, layoffs, AI, food prices, you name it, experiencing fear, anxiety, uncertainty, and the sense of being caught in a tsunami of unknown proportions.
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but considering the fact that humanity is facing nothing less than the complete dismantling of the Old World we’ve all been enduring for far too long, I don’t think we’ve seen anything yet. We’re still in the prepper stage, getting accustomed to crazy.
Crazier, Crazier 2.0, 3.0 and Craziest have yet to be installed as the latest operating systems.
Let me say, upfront, that I’m not immune to this energetic. But I’ve been dealing with overwhelm on so many fronts, inner and outer, for so long now, I actually feel like an old hand at it—an old hand with, perhaps, some useful advice to share.
So, without further ado, here’s what I’ve learned about overwhelm so far.
It’s mostly mental
I’ve said “I feel overwhelmed” many times in the last few years. And yet life marched on afterwards and I was always okay. Frequently better than okay. So, I finally started reflecting on whether or not it was really true.
I mean, if actually overwhelmed I should find myself in a straitjacket on the 5th floor of the local hospital. Right? Or maybe floating downriver, miles from home, gripping some vestige of my life—an oil painting or dining room chair—trying to stay float.
But no.
I was always actually fine. It was only my mind getting used to an ever-increasing number of moving parts—bills, headlines, election fraud, expanding overhead, clients, deadlines, social media, car trouble, nanobots, EM fields, physical issues … fatigue, weird aches and pains … backyard construction noise, roosters crowing at 4 am next door, concern that I’ll always be able to put food in the cat bowls at night.
That sort of thing.
There was usually some feeling of anxiety accompanying these whirling thoughts. But, again, it was a mental disturbance—a mental creation—and not actual overwhelm.
So, I stopped saying “I feel overwhelmed” and started saying things like, “There’s a lot going on.” Or, more colorfully, “I’m getting used to living in a popcorn popper.” Or even optimistically, “I’m expanding my capacity to handle stuff like never before.”
Because those things were actually the truth.
And with accurate perspective, overwhelm fades away.
Excess baggage
A couple weeks ago, I quoted Emily Trinkaus and her Embodied Aquarian podcast, when she said that the new moon in Aquarius (Jan. 29) conjoined with Pluto was going to require people to realize “There might be some parts of ourselves we need to let go of … that are not aligned with our highest future frequency.” This includes old dreams, old identities, old beliefs, old habits, old pastimes, and old relationships.
I don’t know about you, but very little “old” anything remains in my life. I still write for a living and still live on Maui. I still enjoy swimming in the ocean, love my friends, and spoil my cats. I still thrill at driving too fast on windy roads. And if something goes well with lots of butter and salt, I’ll probably like the taste.
But aside from that?
I used to dream of being an enlightened guru strutting on stage in white robes. I used to dream of being a best-selling author. I used to eat sugar and drink alcohol. Now? None of the above.
Several times, I’ve walked away from an old life with only a car, a couple suitcases and a dog. The most recent exercise in material letting go was a phone call from my landlady asking “What do you want saved from your house?” when the Maui fires were raging a couple miles away and I was 3264 miles distant on the mainland.
“The cats. The seascape painting in my bedroom, the red ginger painting in the dining room and, if possible, my car.”
That was it.
Recently, old friends have been departing at an alarming rate. And so have my belief systems.
I don’t believe in any kind of government. I don’t believe in anybody’s fiat economics. I don’t believe our current history. Much of our science is suspect. “Health” practices? Pharmaceuticals? Please. I’m not sure reincarnation operates the way I used to believe it did. I have no idea what shape the world is. And as far as the nature of its reality is concerned … I’m clueless.
Everything is up for questioning. Except maybe questioning itself.
Bottomline, I’ve learned that a lot of what contributes to a sense of overwhelm is holding on to the need to hold on, trying to make sure everything remains the same.
But face it.
Little is the same as it was five years ago. Nothing will be the same five years from now. Everything is change.
Nothing but change is changeless. It’s the nature of life itself.
Being willing to go with the flow eases our burdens and the overwhelm of those burdens considerably.
Multidimensional voices and child parts
I’ve only recently realized that one of the most powerful contributors to overwhelm—if not THE most potent contributor—is multidimensional voices and unintegrated child parts.
We are multidimensional beings. I’ve written about this before in Many Lives, Many Voices … Much Confusion. We’ve experienced other lifetimes and countless other lifeforms. Other ways of thinking (or not thinking at all). Other ways of being.
All these experiences unconsciously live in us, present time.
If any of those experiences run harshly counter to what’s showing up in this world, in this life, right now; if any of those experiences run harshly counter to how we’re handling our lives … we can experience feelings, prompts, thoughts, concerns, fears, triggers, reactions related to those past experiences that seem confusing and overwhelming because we can’t logically put our finger on either the feeling/trigger or its source(s).
Say I had some Spock-ish Vulcan lifetime dedicated to pure logic. That “old me” is likely to have a complete meltdown faced with what’s going on in our current society. Or perhaps that “old me” is constantly scolding and schooling me to ignore what’s happening as “beneath my notice” … and my more human parts are running amok screaming “Are you kidding? Get with the program! Buy gold! Buy crypto! Store food! Buy a cabin in the woods in Alaska! Do something!”
The two programs are at war, adding to everything else, creating more overwhelm.
Even more likely is unintegrated child parts acting out old fears and insecurities.
If I didn’t get the nurturing and support needed to feel safe when I was five or eight or ten or ever … all those old scary, angry, insecure feelings I experienced as a kid are going to come barreling forward (or rather rise up inward). And if I’m not aware of this influence, I can literally be taken over by those uncontrolled, uncontrollable child emotions.
Suddenly, instead of being a 40, 50, 60, 70-year-old adult maturely facing extraordinarily difficult, tumultuous times— I’m an eight-year-old kid without a mom and dad and no safe refuge. Which means I’m not only feeling incredibly emotionally overwhelmed, it means I’m facing extraordinarily difficult, tumultuous times with the capacity of an eight-year-old to navigate those times.
And the less ably I navigate life, the more overwhelming the fear and everything else, and on it all goes in a vicious downward spiral.
The trick, of course, is to be calm enough and present enough to remember to listen to the body and interpret what it’s saying on a moment-to-moment basis as things happen around me on the outside.
Actually, I did that today.
A lot was going on. Many balls were in the air. And I started to feel overwhelmed to an unhealthy degree. So I went to bed, lay down and tuned in. And sure enough, what I “got” from the sensations and messaging from my body was that an unintegrated, unheard, unseen child part of me around age 11 was having a meltdown.
That old part of me—still very alone, wounded, pissed, and frightened—was still active and alive in me. And she was responding to my current life circumstances with a child’s level of understanding and emotional control.
Now, if I can’t tell the difference between me as an adult and me as an eight-year-old kid — it doesn’t bode well for my ability to respond to life circumstances in a healthy manner. So I talked to that child part and calmed her. I told her that her old life was gone and that she was an adult now. Namely “me.” And that I would look out for her and take care of her like she’d never been taken care of before.
After about 20 minutes, the emotional storm was over and the sense of overwhelm was gone.
New capacities
We’re all facing the old Chines curse: “May you live in interesting times.” And interesting times require new ways of understanding, approaching, and dealing with life. And ourselves!
I think one of the major things I’ve learned lately is the importance of being kind to myself. It’s impossible to prepare for the complete unknown. It’s unreasonable to expect that of myself and just more added pressure I don’t need.
It’s also vital to learn to trust good ol’ fashioned gut knowing. Which means managing to stay calm and present enough to hear the messages.
I hope the above insights into overwhelm will help you do just that! And remember—it’s a work in progress for all of us!
Much love and aloha ~
Cate