You Can’t Carry The Entire World, Bro.

I’m going to be real honest tonight.

I am so exhausted, I could cry. I am running on fumes. My face hurts. My body hurts. And functioning like a normal human being feels like dragging a half dead body around. The other day, I curled up under my weighted blanket and felt as though I could deeply sleep for another 24 hours. Bone tired. I’ve tried typing and retyping on some blog drafts approx. 9239487 times, but my brain feels as fatigued as my body. The words just won’t come. The energy to finish 1,2,3 projects in the works won’t come. The speed I need for the actual day of speed work in a run won’t come. The deep night’s sleep I tuck myself in for and pray dearly for God to POOF! Power off my wired up brain…won’t come. Some days, it’s kind of like I forget how to exist.

Yes, I realize this is not normal. Yes, I am getting it checked out. And yes, I will seize the day that I feel 100% like myself again. Because since, oh…November? Something has been off. Way off. Off enough to make me say, “This is not how I’m supposed to feel. This is not me. Not even close.” I don’t know if it’s the less than pleasant events I experienced in the city that took a brainwashing, mental toll…or if it was an underlying physical mishap, that said experiences exacerbated. I just don’t know. But, I will (hopefully) know soon.

That might totally shock a person or 10. You see, I’m quite known and described as being this bubbly, ambitious, energetic little lady. Truthfully though, it is very easy for me to fool myself into believing that I can “do it all”, when I simply cannot. I think that I can carry the weight of the world, but my shoulders are too small. I’ll tag on one thing, then another, then another. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the “screen version” of ourselves we depict. We make ourselves look so darn appealing, talented, successful, hot, adventurous, you name it…and we fool ourselves into believing that we should feel as that quick blurb that we post, except that our expectations are for 24/7. I truly do appreciate people’s kind words towards my photography, writing, or social media rants…but I also wish that on days like today, I could show what it’s really like to be me.

Today I spent an hour in the bathroom with face makeup, dressed all cute in that new pair of summer shorts, and had some places on my rainy day “to do” list. I could barely keep my eyes alert on the way home. I looked in the rear view mirror at my dolled up face. I guess this is why girls can foolproof and fake their pain so well. I can look the part. Be the part. Pretend I’ve got it all under control. But deep down, my perfectionist roots’ ridiculous standards that I realize I cannot humanly fulfill, give a rude awakening. I am so utterly, ridiculously, life suckingly fatigued, I could cry. I walked through the door and crashed in the fetal position in the recliner.

But that’s the part we don’t really ever display, even if it’s to other people who we could reasonably reach out to. We hide and mask our pain, our agony, our sorrow, the pieces of ourselves we really need a hand lended to. I know I do. I want to seek a hand of comfort, but I also don’t want to seem like a special snowflake. I want to be honest about how I’m feeling, but I don’t want to seem like a victim. And so, I keep going. I keep going until…I suddenly can’t go anymore. Can anybody relate? Yeah; I thought so. We live as though it’s easier to suffer in solitude, all in the name of “looking the part” or holding some “badass” card, than willingly accepting help, dropping some of the load, or letting someone help to carry the load. So, I just wanted to kindly remind you…

You can’t carry the entire world, bro. You can’t expect to constantly do more, be more, and remain a functioning, healthy, sane human all in one. You can’t expect to give 110%, when 100% is our full capacity. And even then, it’s okay to dial it back. Trust me. I tried to carry the weight of the world. I tried to do it all on my own, look the part, be the part, and people actually believed me. Inside though, I was crumbling. I was stressed and lonely and navigating a giant city with a broken spirit and a heart and soul running on about 10%.

It’s okay to rest. Shabbat is perhaps the most overlooked, but necessary piece of the equation. In fact, rest could actually save your life and immune system. It is okay to pause. It is okay to be not okay. It is okay to not look the stainless steel part of your Instagram feed. It is okay to ask for help. It is okay if you did not check off A-Z on the checklist. It is okay if you have found yourself in a weak spot and cannot currently power through. It is okay that you are not humanly able to carry someone’s else’s burdens, along with yours. In fact, you weren’t created to. Did you know that? It is okay that you can’t do it all. It is okay that you can’t carry the entire world.

We live in a culture that thrives off of a hustle mentality, with zero room for grace. We compare our bodies and social status and talents and cars and clothes, but we don’t take care of what’s going on inside. We go to bed bone tired, thoughts relentless, the human check list tucked in the back of the mind. We set the alarm for 4 o’ clock in the morning, drag ourselves across the cold floor, question our sanity as we awaken from a whopping 3 or 4 hours of broken sleep just to go and workout before the 9-5, but we don’t take care of the fatigued body screaming for recovery. “Do more; be more,” the mind says. We pile on task after task, but feel like an utter failure if we dare make the slightest mistake or mishap.

My coach says that you have only failed if you fail to learn something. I agree. And I want to remind you of that. We are works in progress, not an immortal portrait of perfection that can never mess up, and that must carry the weight of the world on our shoulders.

You can’t carry the entire world, bro. And that is great news, because you weren’t created or intended to. There is great joy and freedom in that. Let’s aim for wholeness instead of perfection, and living with purpose in this world, instead of feebly carrying the world.

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2 Comments

  • Renee Leonard Kennedy
    July 9, 2020

    The beauty of this is honesty begets honesty.
    I just crashed into my bed an hour too late, when truthfully I was ready four hours ago.
    Thank you for giving yourself and us permission to say, it’s rough right now. It’s hard. I’m worn-splat out.
    “Let’s aim for wholeness instead of perfection.” My soul sighs because of that one sentence.
    It’s not up to us. Remind me once and again.

  • Shanda
    July 9, 2020

    I think there is a vulnerability and humility in the confession, “I can’t do it all” and in presenting that broken, imperfect image to the world. It disrupts our natural Eden desire to be masters of our own domain. Ironically, it is the acknowledgement of weakness that makes us stronger. Without it we remain lost seekers. Ever chasing, never finding. Always controlled by something other than the truth we surpress. Bondage.

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