I have come to learn that when I feel overwhelmed it means I am focused far too much on “doing” vs “being,” and I have ultimately disconnected from myself. I am thinking about the “what if,” the “then what,” and the “what next.” Essentially, I am not here. I am instead, mired in thoughts with a touch of urgency. When I pause long enough and notice what’s underneath the feeling of overwhelm, there’s usually fear of not getting enough done and then missing out on something. Even deeper is the fear that I am somehow failing, and if I fail, I am undeserving of love – my own ultimately. Physically, I notice sensations of tightness, heaviness and rigidity. My heart does not feel open or joyful, and I have an extremely limited ability to have perspective, listen to others or feel ease.

If you relate to this type of experience then I would like to share three words I have found to be incredibly helpful to ride theses waves of overwhelm: The words are: “I Am Here.” They are from an audio book by the late Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh. The audio book titled “The Present Moment,” is a ten-chapter recording of a Retreat on the Practice of Mindfulness.

My direct experience of applying this phrase was when I had moved into my new home many years ago. I was at the tail end of a very tumultuous time in my life, and had been in a robotic, survival mode for nearly two years. I longed to feel calm and safe in my body. I was eager to take longer exhales and feel more grounded in both my inner and outer worlds. So at around 10pm on a summer evening, I chose to assemble two dressers – a task I find tedious and draining at the best of times. But in the hopes of creating an atmosphere of ease while I worked away, I listened to “The Present Moment” by Thich Nhat Hanh.

If  you have never listened to Thich Nhat Hanh, his soft voice is a gentle balm to the nervous system, and his words deepen the imprint of calm. He spoke of being still, noticing breath. He guided listeners to repeat the phrase: “I am here.” I began to put the dressers together. I continued repeating “I am here,” as I carefully placed each of the little hollow metal nuts in their respective holes, (and hoped they stayed in place), and while I aligned their matching screws… I’d say it again “I am here.” I heard his voice directing listeners to notice their breathing. I breathed a little deeper, a little slower. I found the small wooden plugs with vertical ridges on them, and put them in their holes one by one. Some fit easier than others, some too deep. “I am here, I am here.”  I looked for the Allen key. “I am here, I am here.” I continued to repeat this phrase over and over. I don’t recall ever thinking of the time, or anything else for that matter.  Hours went by and the dressers were complete. I am here.

Photo: Taken by one of my siblings: A moose relaxing in a city neighbourhood in Alberta