maximum load

I took this photo on a trip to the Eastern Townships of Quebec last year at Thanksgiving. this quiet life was still a work in progress on my laptop, and the sign caught my attention on an early morning walk. I took a quick photo of it, thinking it might relate to a blog post in the future.

And here we are, in that future, one year later. My life should be transformed by now with the big wake up call that I had last September. I had such big plans for my life to be dramatically different. A year ago I imagined that by now I'd be meditating and doing yoga every day, spending quiet time with God each morning, writing passionately and transformatively for this quiet life, and walking slowly and quietly and peacefully through my days.

But instead...

Irritability where I imagined there would be a sunny and good-natured approach to life. Impatience where I felt surely there would be an abundance of grace, goodwill and tolerance amidst the daily procession of missteps and mishaps that accompany life's journey. Restless and interrupted sleep rather than the peaceful slumber of one who is happy and content. Anxiety follows me through my days rather than a deep sense of groundedness in my belly. Hopelessness and frustration abound in the place of contentment and joy.

I could go on, but I won't. You get the point, right? Living with MBA (Migraine with Brainstem Aura) alongside making no meaningful change in how I'm living my life has pushed my personal bridge deck to its maximum load. I'm at capacity. Threshold has been reached.

I talk to my patients about this all the time. The nervous system has the beautiful ability to keep us in balance with the world around us. But it's a system with capacity, a maximum load. Stay under your maximum load through a combination of good lifestyle, self care and stress management, and you thrive in your life. Run at your maximum load through a combination of pushing your limits, and you can make it through but it's not always pretty. Push pass the limits of your maximum load by putting your head down and forcing yourself through adverse circumstances day after day, and soon you have a nervous system on the brink of collapse.

I'm not the first and I won't be the last who has ignored the maximum load sign. But now that I've pushed ahead for an entire year, long past when it made sense to do so, I have to accept that the consequences are significant and inconvenient. Obviously, I can't continue forward as I have been. But life has demands and the ones in mine aren't commitments that I can just walk away from. Or can I? Can I work less? When it gets this bad, can you just put everything down and walk away? Can I afford NOT to walk away?

These are the questions that currently populate my wakeful nights. They come with me to work, on my walks with Tucker, on a weekend getaway to our favourite Gulf Island. They won't leave me alone and I'm thankful for that.