Overextension and perfectionism often begin with good intentions but can quickly lead to overwhelm, anxiety, and burnout. Discover how recognizing emotional patterns, grounding in the present moment, and practicing gratitude can help you stop fighting the current and learn to float.
"You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf."
Jon Kabat-Zinn
Out to Sea
One of the reasons that I love energy work and coaching so much is because I am fascinated by patterns. I could, and often do, spend hours thinking about the emotional and behavioral routines, cycles, and systems of my clients, my partner, my family and friends, and myself. Recently I stumbled upon one of my cycles that has been active for years. And by stumbled upon, I mean I tied my hair back, threw on a bikini, ran over the jetty, and dove head first into the ocean during a hurricane. I’m being metaphorical, obviously. I hardly ever wear bikinis in public.
The Storm Beneath Good Intentions
My ocean, in this case, is not salt water and strong winds, but rather overextension and perfectionism. It’s a storm that I have been caught in since childhood. It begins when I decide to do something special for someone that I love, typically a trip, an event, or a meaningful gift. It starts with the best intentions. I daydream about their smile, their excitement, their enjoyment. But as the intention grows from plan to reality, fear slithers in unseen.
What if I can’t do it?
What if they don’t like it?
What if something goes wrong?
Endlessly scanning for trouble is one of my core patterns. Oh amygdala, you silly hijacker.
To avoid the discomfort of uncertainty, I overextend. Maybe just one more gift. Maybe one more add-on to the trip. Maybe take the scenic route or order a special dinner. At the first sign of a flaw, or heaven forbid disapproval or disappointment, my perfectionism and panic lock hands and hips, pull in tight, and take over the whole dance floor. I pull at the thread of perceived failure until the entire plan unravels. And in the middle of the mess of my making, I stand helplessly with candles, suitcases, tickets, or keys in hand wondering what went wrong.
Intention turned obsession, fear to self-fulfilled prophecy.
Caught in the Current
This month, the overextension wasn’t entirely of my making, but also circumstantial. Some months naturally contain more special occasions or scheduled events, and June is one of mine. So I didn’t so much dive into the ocean as fall in while trying to balance on the jetty. Still, my distance from the shores of success and serenity was very much connected to my own struggle.
One thing that you learn early when you live near the ocean is that when you get caught in a rip tide, you stay calm. You don’t fight it. You swim parallel to the shoreline. You can float or gently tread water, but trying to swim directly to shore only leaves you exhausted. The harder you fight, the further out you’ll drift, until you are so tired you risk being pulled under.
So you don’t fight. You float.
Guess which one I did?
As a lover of research and Root chakra, I understand how and why this pattern takes over for me. While I was already out to sea by the time I recognized the water, I am grateful for the opportunity to acknowledge and accept this cycle, so that I can work to begin a different response. I can learn to float.
A Root Reframe
If you find yourself caught up in a similar storm, here is a Root Reframe that I’ve been practicing.
When fear, perfectionism, anxiety or overwhelm take over, don’t try to swim straight back to shore. Forcing a way out only pulls you further from yourself. Instead, pause and focus on what is factually true right now. Rather than following every fearful thought out to sea, come back to the present moment.Feel your feet on the floor. Notice your breath moving through your body. Focus on simple facts of where you are and what is actually happening. Often what feels like danger, is actually uncertainty or discomfort.
Another practice that I’ve learned this month, and found extremely helpful, is creating a gratitude list out loud. Gratitude is incredibly grounding. Creating a list out loud gently shifts attention and energy toward something supportive. It doesn’t avoid an issue, it broadens awareness to include what is stable and reliable, reconnecting us to a sense of safety. A roof over your head. A meal in the refrigerator. The ocean itself.
Rip tides will always exist, but we don’t have to fight them. We can float, breathe, reorient, and trust that the shoreline is within reach.
Need a Little Clarity?
Feel free to reach out below and ask whatever is on your mind.
