what if you just did less?

I have a confession to make: My girls start seventh grade (omfg howwwwww?!) next week, and, earlier this week, I thought about becoming Treasurer of the PTO.

That’s right. Even though summer has kicked my ass fourteen different ways. Even though I’m behind on like seven different deadlines for myself. Even though the weeks are, in a word, full.

And even though I made it to not a single PTO meeting all year during sixth grade.

I was going to raise my hand to be the dang Treasurer.

I’m sorry, ma’am, what the actual f*ck are you saying?!?!

I know, I know. Listen. I know.

The lesson I keep learning, over and over, nearly every day of my life is: you’re not going to cure your overwhelm with more obligation.

Or, put simply: more stuff won’t fix it.

So whether it’s another commitment or more shit purchased during last night’s doomscroll that you’ll have forgotten why you ordered when it arrives, layering more onto the overwhelm is only going to multiply the burden.

(Oh, I’m sorry, did your heart break a little too right there?!)

And look! I wish we could obligate our little hearts to freedom. If we could, we’d be free by now and I wouldn’t be sitting here typing this.

Since there’s no Midlife Overachiever Honor Roll, here’s what I propose instead when it comes to tackling overwhelm:

1. Undercommit to E V E R Y T H I N G you can, starting today.
   Sure, go to the first PTO meeting if you can, but breaking yourself to get there to prove what a wonderful parent and community member you are is only going to burn you out, causing you to be a less present parent and community member. 🙃🫠🥴😱😭

   (Likewise crying into the cookies you’ve stayed up until midnight to bake isn’t actually a great way to celebrate your kid’s birthday.)

2. Give yourself some time to helicopter above it all and look at everything from a zoomed-out perspective.
   When you’re in it and trying to manage everything at once, you can’t see the forest for the trees.

   Which means that before you become Treasurer of anything, get in your metaphorical helicopter and get the actual lay of the land.

   What is actually happening in this forest, babe?
   What’s most urgent?
   What’s the actual priority here?

   Write it all down. Get it out of your head. The things you’ve remembered and the ones you’ve forgotten. Maybe you make a mindmap. Or a timeline. Maybe it’s just a very jumbled messy list.

   Mess is okay!! Please don’t force yourself to be tidy as you tackle the overwhelm too.

3. Take some time to figure things out.
   You didn’t become overwhelmed overnight, and you aren’t going to solve this problem overnight. So give yourself time. (I know, it’s hard. Trust me I know.)

   Instead of rushing to a fix (because I know you’re ready for more committing over there!), move slowly as you try some solutions.

   Maybe you need a new system for keeping track of everything.
   Maybe you need to ask a really wise friend for help.
   Maybe you need to ditch all those scroll distractions and find yourself a creative community that will help you show up and actually make progress on the things you really want to be doing. (oh, hi.)

   What you probably need is a whole combination of things — more time, more space, less commitment, some focus tools, an outside perspective to make sense of things.

   But the key here is to make sure you’re finding supportive tools rather than just piling more onto the thing you’re already barely carrying.

4. And then use the tools.
   Open the toolbox and try some stuff! Notice what helps and set down what hinders. That’s the practice.
   

5. But don’t beat yourself when you backslide.
   Because you will backslide. Because: life. (Oh, and if you catch yourself in self-judgement mode, don’t beat yourself up for that either!)
   

6. Whatever you do, don’t commit to being the PTO Treasurer.1
   Good gracious, Tiffany Han, put your hand down and say no. The PTO will be fine. You will volunteer when you can and take your dance classes and eat dinner with your family.

And yes, of course there’s a voice in your head saying you could always be doing more, but that voice is not an accurate assessor of your capacity. Seriously, he knows not of what he speaks!!

I wish we could earn our ways into lives that feel good. But, at this point, you and I both know that’s not how it works, even if we wished it weren’t true.

I’ve tried. I’ve said so many yeses. I’ve committed until I couldn’t see straight.

Until I was snapping at my family and getting sick because I’d stopped sleeping and literally gave myself a three-week headache that was so bad I convinced myself I had a brain tumor. (That I obviously didn’t have time to see a doctor about.)

Inside me is the belief that if only I achieve enough, juggle it all well enough, work hard enough to be good, and volunteer myself a little more, my life won’t have any more friction.

And wouldn’t it be great if me suffering a little burnout was actually the solution?! But it’s not.

Just like you suffering a little better isn’t actually the solution either. And unless you’re training for the Tour de France, being able to suffer the most isn’t actually going to take you where you want to go.

And the work is not in the doing a better job at not doing too much. (Again: I wish!) It’s letting yourself be human. Remembering that you have a capacity that’s longing to be considered.

Slowing down. And then slowing down a little more.

Putting down the things that aren’t lighting you up, one at a time, to make space for what might.

Trying. Learning. Trying some more. Forgetting. Remembering. Again and again and again. Literally: until we die because life will keep on life-ing. And that impulse to say an immediate yes runs deep.

And also: there will never be a better day to take a single step onto a new path forward than this day today.

Even when that first step is to just put your hand down and do nothing.