Maybe we’re juggling too much

          I am reminded of the time I worked my way to the center and back out to the start of a prayer labyrinth. What is a prayer labyrinth, you ask? Well, let me explain. You know those puzzles you get where you are supposed to figure out the fastest way for the cartoon bee to get to the center of a maze to its hive? It’s kind of like that, but bigger. And you can’t take a wrong turn because all paths lead to the center. And you walk through it while praying. It’s usually outside and the path is lined with stones or some other natural substance leading you forward into the center.

          When our kids were younger, we went to a Christian family camp in central Pennsylvania every summer. There was no TV, or telephone, or cable, or Internet (until the last couple of years we went). I remember one year having to go to a local library so I could use its wi-fi so I could submit a freelance job I was working on. The camp’s tag line was “Where you can connect with God, nature and each other.”

          The last year we went, we were introduced to a prayer labyrinth the staff put together near the campsites under a bunch of trees. It was simply a circular maze with a path created with stones. The idea is you start on the outside edge, start praying and slowly walk your way to the center, where you can rest and contemplate things, then you work your way through the path back to the outside.

          I remember starting to walk and noticing a pretty stone. So I picked it up. As I walked and prayed, I noticed more stones — different colors, shapes, sizes. Soon I had picked up so many stones that I was cradling them in my t-shirt. Then I came upon a BEE-AY-YOU-TI-FUL rock. But it was big. I wasn’t going to be able to pick it up without putting down some of the stones I had already picked up.

          That’s when I made my huge realization. Some may say the Lord spoke to me, others may say I just realized it on my own. Whatever the reason, it hit me that the stones were like all the little, niggling decisions and jobs and commitments I made for myself day in and day out. And then when a big decision or a big commitment came along, I either couldn’t handle it because of all the little stuff I was juggling, or I was going to have to drop some stones. I was going to have to pull back from my commitments so I could have the energy and focus to handle the big thing that I just picked up.

          I got to the center of the maze carrying all these stones in the pouch I created with my t-shirt and holding the one big rock I decided to pick up. I remember sitting down on the stump that was at the center of the labyrinth and weeping. I think that was probably the first time I let myself acknowledge that I couldn’t fix things for all the people I loved, or even the people I liked, or even the people I didn’t even know.

          I’ve got my own history of trauma. Maybe I’ll get into it in another post. But, recovering from that, facing my own cancer diagnosis, finally getting pregnant only to almost lose the baby, dealing with emergencies with my siblings, supporting my mom while she took care of my dad before he died, trying to support my husband and his family when his father had a massive stroke, caring for my mom after her own cancer diagnosis, being a full-time caregiver for my almost 30-year-old son, worrying about our other two boys and trying to help them get through their traumatic events. I’m weary just thinking about it all.

          Then add a pandemic, riots, the deteriorating climate, a presidential election, working from home. Sometimes it’s too much.
No wonder we’ve been experiencing decision fatigue. Maybe we should call it decision exhaustion.

          What can I do? What can you do? I’m not exactly sure, but I know we need to do something. All I can think of, though, is to try to support our neighbors and members of our communities, but that just adds more to our already long list of concerns.

          Maybe this is where self-care comes into play. We need to take care of ourselves before we can take care of others. Like putting on our own oxygen mask before trying to put a mask on someone else. We need to start paying attention to the small pebbles we’re trying to juggle while we also try to manage the big rocks. We need to learn how to put some of those stones down. They won’t go anywhere. We can pick them up later when we are more equipped to deal with them.

          What do you think we can do to support each other? Let me know your ideas in the comments below. Or send me an email at susie@stix-n-stonez.com

          My hope for you is that you are able to juggle your pile of stones without dropping too many of them.

Until next week,

Susie at Stix-N-Stonez.com