When I was in college, towards the end there especially, I was juggling a lot: a student athlete, a TV show for the campus TV station, working a part-time job. One day I woke up and felt like my chest was a bit constricted. It wasn’t an intense feeling, but it was an ever-present one. It felt as if there was a weight on my chest – it pressed gently on my lungs with just enough force to make breathing come a little bit harder.
Eventually, I decided it was anxiety. Trying to do too much was having a physical affect on my body.
I never went and saw a doctor or anything, nor did I talk about it much except to a few close friends. For awhile I just let it be; eventually the semester would end and I’d get a break.
I don’t remember when it went away, but I do remember deciding not to run what would have been my final track season as a Red Wolf. I took minimum classes the next semester, combining my independent study with a new program for the TV station. Looking back, these simple but hard decisions were little steps towards putting myself before some of my big ideas.
That may seem an odd thing to say, after all, big ideas lead to big dreams and those things make us happy. So wouldn’t following those dreams be good for us? Sometimes.
I love to dream. I love thinking about what the future can hold and making plans to make the picture in my head become a reality. It is very, very hard for me to say no to things and honestly I hate to. I enjoy filling my calendar with to-dos and serving on various projects.
Currently, my day job keeps me very busy – not to mention I currently serve on three different committees, volunteer my time to run social and complete various other tasks for my husband’s business venture, am working with a partner to open our own business, and I’ve taken on some freelance work. Truthfully, I love all of these things. Also truthfully, I can feel a slight pressure in my chest.
There are days when I feel like a total rock star. On these mornings I don’t just knock out what I need to for my day job. Actually, I knock out more than I need to: coming up with new ideas, taking care of things I didn’t think I’d get to til next week. I attend a committee meeting and field questions about what’s up with Native or Story. I hit send on a freelance project and cap off the day with a few chores around the house. There’s food in the fridge because I swung by the grocery store despite how hectic the day was. If life is a trail, I’m covering ground and taking all the pretty pictures to remember the hike.
Then there are days when I am absolutely certain I’m about to drop something. I’m carrying a heavy backpack and I just keep cramming things into it: stuffing something in a side pocket, clipping something to the outside, perhaps tying something on my waist. On these days, I do not congratulate myself on the next step forward. Instead I look up at the entire trail that winds in front of me. Suddenly it’s unending. No matter how many successful steps I’ve taken to get right where I am, the steps forward are steep and my load is heavy. I will have to climb over boulders. The sky looks stormy. I’m not even certain where my next check point is. I’m out of breath; my chest feels that pressure.
I don’t know at what point I will force myself to set something down but I do know the point will come.
For now, I hope the sun comes out and that the trail levels out. I hope the pressure recedes and that I can continue to follow my dreams in all the directions they’re pulling me. For now: deep breaths and small steps.