My friend Terri Cole shared this quote with me last week:

“Overwhelm is just a mountain of unmade decisions.”

Mike and I are on a plane flying to Europe for 10 days. And yet, moments ago as we awaited our boarding call, instead of deliciously anticipating the romance of touring London and Paris with the man I love, I was obsessing and stressing in rapid, repetitive succession.

Despite Mike picking me up and twirling me around, telling me that everything was going to be okay, and smothering me with kisses, I just felt freaking OVERWHELMED.

You feel me? 

How many times has your stress about everything you have to do, everything you haven’t done — and everything everyone else on your team or in your family is probably not doing but should be doing — taken you away from enjoying the present moment?

I bet it’s a lot of times.

So, the reality is that I’m taking a vacation in the middle of an extremely full time in our business.

We have a BIG event coming up in Portland, Maine, on June 15th with 10+ amazing speakers and 500+ guests.

My book launches in a few months and it’s crunch time for planning and implementing the marketing strategy.

Our team is sprouting faster than I can say “chia,” and that growth requires love, attention, and mentorship from both Mike and myself.

We just moved, are still living out of boxes, and are in the process of hiring someone to help us keep the details of our life and business running smoothly.

About 30 minutes ago whilst awaiting our flight at the beautiful Portland International Jetport, Mike reminded me that our life is probably never going to be not busy.

You know what? He’s right. And his apt statement probably applies to you, too.

Your life is probably never going to be not busy. So just decide to enjoy the fullness. (Tweet it.)

How, pray tell, does one do that?

Well, I’ll tell you what I did just now that helped me plant my tush in the present and feel better pretty much immediately.

Try these 5 ways to stop freaking out and just freaking enjoy the moment:

• Take a few deep breaths way down in your belly with your eyes closed. (I know you’ve been trying to suck in your belly all day. Just during this exercise let it all hang out. Trust me, no one is watching.)

• Write down the most immediate, finite action steps you know you need to take. This step stops your mind from constantly and obsessively reminding you of your to do’s as though you should be doing them every second of every day (for more on this concept, read David Allen’s awesome book Getting Things Done).

• Knock one or two items off the list that take less than 3 minutes each. While I was just sitting in the airport, I made a call I’d been thinking about making all day and sent off an email I’d been meaning to send for a couple days. Total time spent: about 10 minutes. Relief experienced: vast and profound.

• Get excited about how great your life is. I must give credit to Mike for this one. He said that when he feels overwhelmed he focuses on how great his life is. Then he feels better. What can you put your attention on right now that’s awesome about your life? Remember: what we put our attention on grows. Focus on the great stuff instead of the overwhelm.

• Make a decision or two. If, in fact, overwhelm is just a mountain of unmade decisions, making a few will immediately release tension. Start with one that’s not super complicated and notice how you get on a decision-making roll. Try doing this first thing in the morning while you’re still feeling minty fresh.

Instead of feeling frazzled and agitated, I’m now calmly watching the sun set over the friendly skies and listening to Tina Turner sing “What’s Love Got to Do With It?”.

And you know what? I’m getting excited about the trip.

Did I finish everything on my list before getting on the plane? Nope.

Will I ever finish everything on my list? Nope.

Will you? Nope.

Next time your mind is deep in the weeds of the project, the proposal, your marriage, moving, your job, or your life at large, do the 5 steps above and then remember:

You’re never going to get it all done. And that’s more than okay.

Thanks for listening. I feel better. I hope you do too.

Now I’m going to go enjoy Paris and I invite you to go enjoy whatever great thing you’ve got going on. (You know you’ve got something.)

Got any other good ideas for dealing with overwhelm? Write ‘em down in the comments. 

P.S. I’m doing a meet-up in London on Saturday, May 25th in Swiss Cottage at 11am. Email us if you want to join in the fun!

***Photo Credit: AlaskaTeacher on Flickr.***

Immediately, this question popped into my mind:

What if, instead of looking for ways to escape, we decided to create lives we love so much that we want to stay fully in them? (Click to tweet)

Sandy beached resorts wink at us through turquoise blue eyes with the promise of “getting away from it all.” Many are seduced to leave themselves and their lives through any number of substances daily: alcohol, cigarettes, pot, sugar, pain killers, [insert drug of choice here].

When my parents met and were deciding where they wanted to build a life together they chose Maine. They chose Maine because they knew that they both wanted to spend their vacations in Maine. So, they figured, why not simply live where we would want to vacation anyway? Why not create a life that we want to live inside, instead of one we need to escape from?

How can we make our lives, even in tiny ways, more inhabitable?

How can we make them more inviting?

How can we craft a daily reality that makes us want to stay instead of leave?

I’ve got 4 ideas for you:

1. Stop trying to prove anything to anyone. I have a friend who, after years of struggling and striving in New York City, recently moved to the country. She realized she’d been trying to prove something and now she was done. Her new found ease is palpable in her skin, her eyes, and the way she stands. She chose to make her life a place she wanted to live.

2. Be you. I’ll never forget when I was in high school feeling frustrated with my sister. A close family friend pointed out that I would probably get a lot further in life by being myself instead of trying to not be my sister. Trying not to be my sister was exhausting. Being me instead created a life that was, and continues to be, far more hospitable.

3. Notice what triggers your escape plan. Who are you with when you find yourself wanting to drink? What conversation were you just having before eating that pint of Ben & Jerry’s? What were you saying to yourself as you bought the pack of cigarettes? When you say you really need to “get away”, what is it that you’re trying to leave? The answers to these questions will give you clues to what needs tweaking.

4. Easy does it. Your life does not require a complete overhaul in order for you to want to live it. Tiny changes make a world of difference. Frustrated with your current situation moonlighting as a server at a restaurant? Spend your off hours designing those dresses you’re always dreaming up for someday when you have the money to start your own label. The hours infused with creative juice will offset the hours spent taking orders. Your life will become more tolerable by the minute. And you’ll want to stay there because it will just keep getting better.

There’s nothing wrong with new states of consciousness, changes in scenery, and shaking things up so long as you’re pursuing them for expansion, not escape. Next time you find yourself craving an escape, stop and see how you can inhabit your life instead. It won’t happen overnight. But little by little you’ll have created a life you truly want to live in.

In the comments, share one thing you can do this week to make your life a little more livable. I’m excited to hear what you come up with!

P.S. Want to have a life AND a body that you love living in? Check out my newly launched Foxy Bod Program, a 28-day experience in slimming down while loving yourself up. Registration ends tomorrow and you won’t want to miss it. http://www.thefoxybod.com/program

And I’m making stock. (Yes, I have been cooking non-stop since Mike and I settled into our new home for the next five months. My inner Susie Homemaker has come out in full force. I’m just as surprised as Mike is.)

Part of my taking stock has involved going through all of my “stuff”, digital, physical, and mental, and deciding what to do with it. More on this in a future post when I tell you why I’m obsessed with Getting Things Done by David Allen. In my process of diving into my notes and bits (it’s amazing how much you can accumulate while living in a car) I found a note I’d written to myself sometime this year entitled, “Here’s what I know.” I don’t have a clue when I wrote it, but I know that when I read it it made me feel good.

Here’s hoping it makes you feel good too.

Here’s what I know…

• Doing something for the money never ends up being worth it.
• If it’s not a hell yes, it’s a no.
• You are valuable because you exist. Period. (Or, full stop if you’re British.)
• You are enough. You always have been. You always will be.
• Your place of greatest ease and joy will also be your place of greatest service.
• It’s okay to sleep for ten hours or more a night from time to time. In fact, it’s critical.
• No accomplishment or moment of recognition will ever replace feeling loved, by yourself or anyone else.
• It’s not going to turn out the way you thought. It will be better.
• You know. You always know.
• The fact that it feels good is reason enough to move every day. The fact that it will tone your ass and make your waist smaller are mere side effects.
• Organizing your life around what feels good is the single wisest choice you can make.
• There is always going to be a small part of you that wants to please your mother, even if you’re not conscious of it, and that’s okay.
• Saying yes to someone simply because you don’t want to disappoint them is not only unfair to you, it’s unfair to them.
• Sleep, water, movement, greens, and a good cry cure almost anything.
• Anything worth taking seriously is worth making fun of. (Thanks Mom)
• Paying attention to your money is a profound act of self-love.
• It turns out that life is happening right now.
• Loving yourself more is the best place to start to solve any problem.
• You can’t judge and have an open heart at the same time.
• Nothing is random. Everything happens for a reason.
• Your body is wise beyond what you could possibly imagine. Listen to her. She will lead you home every time.
• Home is not a place.

Your turn!

What do you know?

What can you count on no matter what?

Tell me and remind yourself. Leave a comment.

My first boyfriend wrote me a poem for my sixteenth birthday that, paraphrased, went something like:

Child of Atlas, release the world from your shoulders. It will remain in place, remain in its eternal spin, without you holding it up.

My tendency to feel responsible for every being on the planet was so apparent early on that it inspired poetry in a teenage boy. At the time my parents were going through a divorce and somewhere along the line I got the message that the most important thing was to “keep it together.” So I made looking like I had it together a career. And I rocked it.

Cozy in the driver’s seat.

I’m the youngest member of my immediate family and yet I’m always the driver. I love to drive any chance I get. Being in the driver’s seat, literally and metaphorically, is where I’m cozily tucked into my comfort zone. I’m in control. I’m making it happen. The world is my oyster. It’s up to me. I’m in charge. The wild blue yonder sprawls out in front of me. I feel powerful. I feel like I have it together.

I left NYC on January 25th, said goodbye to most of what I own and to life as I have known it, and hit the road on The Freedom Tour on February 2nd. My vision was that I would drive myself around North America indefinitely in my little white Prius named Zoe.*

I had images of my hair blowing in the wind, my aviators shielding my eyes from the gorgeous desert sun, and a scarf billowing luxuriously from my neck. I thought I would be driving around having profound thoughts on life and freedom. I had this whole romantic notion of just how it would look with me at the helm, fabulously occupying the driver’s seat. And looking very much together as I drove.

The life we’ve planned.

There’s a Joseph Campbell quote that’s been echoing in my head of late:

We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

I have indeed passed through seventeen states and put 4900 miles on my car in the past four weeks. But it hasn’t looked at all as I had planned. In fact, of those 4900 miles I’ve probably only personally driven 500 maximum. I have, in fact, spent the vast majority of The Freedom Tour in the passenger’s seat.

When I realized that I was going to need to get my car from Buffalo to Boulder by way of San Diego, I put out a somewhat random (yet divinely guided) text to someone I barely knew to see if he wanted to drive with me. Key word: with. He accepted the spontaneous invite with only two weeks notice before the departure date. We met up in Buffalo and instead of driving with me across the country, he drove me across the country. Yep, basically 4600 miles of passenger-seat-style surrender.

Handing over the keys.

In the past month every one of my control-freak, Filofax-toting, give-me-the-map-I-know-where-I’m-going buttons has been pushed. I’ve had at least a half a dozen really good freak-outs. I’ve tried desperately to hold onto the life that I had planned, this grand road trip where I would be controlling everything and having perfectly timed, well-planned and well-executed revelations on the state of my life and the state of the universe.

For weeks I have been wildly pushing up against what has actually been manifesting for me: someone who genuinely wanted to take care of me, opportunities I couldn’t have possibly foreseen, possibilities bursting forth at a mile a minute. The thing about pushing against anything is that it’s exhausting. It creates friction in the brain, the heart, and the soul.

And so I decided to surrender. I’ve let someone else drive. I’ve let go of needing to know where I’m going all the time. I’ve tripped, spilled, tumbled, and been a spaz. I’ve unraveled and gotten confused. I’ve allowed myself to be carried. I’ve allowed my baggage to be carried. I’ve let myself not have it together and, more importantly, I’ve let myself not look like I have it together either.

The now moment.

I have come to realize that I have no idea what my life is going to look like three months from now, let alone a year or five years from now. Screw the five-year plan. It turns out that my life is today and that the good stuff is happening in the now moment. I’m making a home in the unknown and letting someone else drive for a change. It’s freaking scary and it’s freaking beautiful.

My plea.

So, to all of the women (and men) out there who do too much, hold too much and take on too much, my desire is for you to hear and accept the following plea. May it come from a lover, a friend, a travel companion, God, Goddess, the universe, your guardian angel, or anyone else who can take the wheel:

Slip into the passenger’s seat baby. Your chariot awaits you. Oh no, let me get that door for you. I’ve got your bag too. The seat heater is on and I’m driving. I’ve got the directions. I know where we’re going. You can just relax and look at the scenery. I’m taking you where you need to go. It’s my pleasure. Allow me to drive.

*Her name was originally Pearl but it’s been changed to Zoe which feels more appropriate for the chariot of a girl hitting the road indefinitely.

Any other control freaks out there? What does it feel like to let someone else drive, literally and/or metaphorically? Share a story. Share a thought. I’d love to hear from you.