Shopping Carts and Turtles

The other day, I was driving through the neighborhood streets behind my house when I spotted a small figure on the pavement: a turtle, slowly and methodically attempting to cross the road. True to my nature, I immediately pulled over, put on my hazard lights, and stepped out. I picked up the little traveler and delivered him safely to the soft, comfortable grass on the side of the road.

Just yesterday, a similar scenario played out—only this time, in the bustling parking lot of Costco. As I cruised down an aisle, a runaway shopping cart darted straight out into traffic, heading on a collision course toward a parked vehicle. Once again, I stopped my car, jumped out, and intervened. I caught the rogue cart, escorted it back to its corral, and saved the unsuspecting car from a fresh dent. A few walking onlookers even applauded.

I am a rescuer. It is simply who I am.

I have always gone the extra mile whenever someone needs assistance, guidance, or a listening ear. If I see a problem, my instinct is to solve it immediately. Before I retired from the Post Office, my daily duties often naturally spilled over into helping customers with complex packages, mailing issues, and sometimes even their personal struggles. My boss once told me, “Joy, other people’s emergencies are not your emergencies.”

Deep down, I have always believed that my purpose on earth is to lighten the load for anyone in distress.

But lately, a troubling dilemma has been weighing on me: When is enough finally enough?

When do I take a break from doing for others in order to take care of myself? How do I stop the relentless wave of guilt that washes over me when I simply have nothing left to give?

Often I have found that my attempts to assist those who have not requested my assistance have been met with rejection and even sometimes resentment. I have been accused of being a busybody or told that they did not not really care what I had to say.

At some point, we have to recognize a hard truth: constantly stepping in to solve problems for others deprives them of the opportunity to solve things for themselves. And ultimately, that dynamic isn’t healthy for anyone involved.

After I moved that turtle, a thought suddenly struck me: What if he actually wanted to be on the opposite side of the road? What if, the moment I drove away, he turned right around and marched straight back into harm’s way?

I realized then that I cannot play God in everyone’s life. I cannot continue to leave my car parked in the driveway because some feral kittens refuse to vacate. I cannot wait around to ensure the turtle stays safely in the grass.

This has been a struggle for me for many years. I have worked very hard over the years to find a happy medium between being of service to others without exhausting myself in the process. I have found that I sometimes fall back into familiar patters, so I have needed to revisit this idea more than once. Once again, I am finding it sometimes necessary to take off the invisible neon sign I’ve been wearing for years—the one that reads “Joy to the Rescue.”

I was recently watching the Mayim Bialik Breakdown on YouTube (she also has a Substack) where she interviewed Lisa Kudrow.

Part 1 of this interview is here

Lisa and Mayim were addressing this subject when Lisa said this tidbit of wisdom: “If your name is not in the sentence, it is not your problem.”

I have found it fairly easy to be an objective voice for Spirit when connecting with clients, and then, I enjoy an equal exchange of energy. People come to me to find out wisdom and guidance from their Angels, Guides, deceased loved ones, or their higher self. They are paying me for the use of my ability to connect with Spirit. This is not where I struggle.

make an appointment

There have been times in my past when I was using Tarot cards to spy on my family members, then jumping in and letting them know if something was about to occur they may want to watch out for. Every time my daughter or stepdaughter entered into a romantic relationship, I was asking the cards about their new person’s character, and frequently offering unsolicited advice. In my eyes, I was doing them a service.

Rarely did they listen to me.

Even in the area of healing, I would offer my services to loved ones or even send them healing energy without being asked to do so. Once again, I thought I was helping.

At some point, a few years ago actually, although I admit the occasional relapse into rescuing mentality, I announced to my family that I was retiring from getting involved in their lives unless they requested my assistance. Even if they did, I have gotten better at stating that I was not the right person for them. They needed someone who could be more objective and had no emotional connection to them.

Growth requires experience. We need to learn our own lessons, and we need to face the natural consequences of our choices to mature.

There is a well-known metaphor about a chick hatching from its egg: if a well-meaning person cracks the shell from the outside to help the chick escape, the bird will eventually die. It is the arduous, exhausting struggle of pecking through that shell that builds the strength necessary for the bird to survive in the world.

For years, I have been the person cracking the shell. I saw someone pecking furiously, felt their struggle, and rushed in to break them out.

I have made the conscious choice to stop cracking the shell.

It didn’t feel easy, and it certainly didn’t feel good. In fact, I felt terrible. I know I will likely have to remind myself tomorrow not to step in. And the day after that. And the day after that.

Maybe when runaway shopping carts stop darting out in front of my car, I’ll know I’ve finally mastered the lesson. Should I have let the cart slam into an innocent vehicle? Of course not—that was just my angels offering a gentle, humorous reminder of the fine line between helpfulness and over-responsibility.

Learning when to hold back is a journey.

If you find yourself being the rescuer, the one who jumps in to save the day, maybe it is time to take off that invisible superhero cape. Yes, always desire to be of service when you are offered the opportunity, but know when to step back and let things unfold the way they should.

Don’t allow yourself to feel guilty when it is time to say, no more.

I am not saying that the next time I find a turtle in the road or a kitten in my car that I will not try to help them. If I find myself jumping out of my car to grab a runaway shopping cart, I will not beat myself up. But when the kittens jump in the car despite every attempt to steer them away and the turtle goes back into the road despite my warnings, I cannot feel responsible for the consequences of their actions.

So yes. Be of service. Help when you can. But know when to say no.