Are You Spread Too Thin?

About once a week I make chocolate crepes for my daughter Emma to enjoy for breakfast. In our home, we actually call them Paris pancakes because Emma for many years has loved one of her books about Paris that has an illustration of a street crepe vendor. She was probably only two years old when we started reading that book so instead of trying to explain to her what a crepe was, I just called them Paris pancakes. So far the name has stuck and I hope she never changes using our special little name. Inevitably she probably will.

Some people might say that a delicacy like crepes is too much work for a weekday morning and would be hesitant to undertake such a task. To me, it's just cooking. Crepe batter is a pretty simple combination of four of the most basic ingredients known to man; eggs, flour, butter and milk combined with a touch of sugar and salt. I do it the old fashioned way by feel: no measuring cups or exact portions required. 

Making crepes like many other things in the kitchen is more of an art than a science to me, so invariably there is some level of variation between batches. As a side note, I am taking a moment here to celebrate the fact that I was able to use the words invariably and variation in the same sentence. I suspect that might be the first time I have ever done that in my many years of writing and it may never happen again. 

The other day when I served Emma her chocolate crepes she took a few bites and gently pushed the plate away. When I asked her if she was enjoying her Paris pancakes she sat in a sheepish silence. When I did finally coax her into using her words, she simply stated "I don't like them very much today. They aren't very delicious." I took note of the fact that this particular batch of crepes were a little bit thicker than normal because I went a bit heavy on the batter in my crepe pan. I asked Emma if they were too thick, and still she remained in sheepish silence. Eventually I was able to coax more information out of Emma and what I learned was that there was not enough filling inside them this time. In other words, I had spread the chocolate too thin. 

"What an interesting metaphor for my entire life right now!" I thought to myself. The whole episode has had me pondering existential thoughts about the sustainability of my current trajectory in life in general. Between family stuff, the book I'm ghostwriting, my client work, my own self work, the men's community work that I love and a day or two each week at the restaurant, at times there doesn't seem to be enough Jim to go around. I'm like the thin layer of chocolate on the crepe of life that isn't as delicious as it could otherwise be. Who would have thought the simple act of making breakfast could produce such contemplation? 

Many people I talk to these days are reporting some level of overwhelm. The period of stillness and silence that was forced upon me back in March of 2020 has not only expired, but parts of me feel like I am at risk of turning right back into the manic taskmaster that I was before I ever heard the word Covid for the first time. One thing that is completely different for me now though is that I am actually aware of the fact that I am spreading myself too thin. It is in that knowingness that I can harness extraordinary power. Not only can I choose what to hang onto and what to let go of, but I can also pull back the veil and look more closely at the reasons I choose to spread myself too thin. There is a wisdom and an intelligence in speaking to the parts of me that find some sort of existential kink in being too busy. It can be daunting to live in a constant state of self-analysis, but at this stage in life I truly know no other way. 

One of the things I love the most about the work that I do with others and with myself is that I no longer look at everything in life exclusively through my problem solver lens. An earlier version of Jim would have likely devised a strategy to get out of the place where I was feeling spread too thin. That strategy likely would have included things like move faster and work harder. If parenting has taught me anything about life at all, it has taught me that there is no level of move faster and work harder that is enough to overcome the unique challenges of being human right now on planet earth. 

These days when I find myself contemplating the fact that I may be feeling like I am spread a bit too thin, I ask myself questions like: 

What does it feel like to be spread thin? 
Would it actually be better if I were thicker or is that just a myth? 
What are the reasons why I spread myself too thin? 
Am I trying to satisfy my people pleaser parts? 
Do I have trouble setting boundaries? 
Am I still measuring my self worth in by how much I can get done?
Is there some level of childhood trauma that makes me feel safer if I am always busy? 
Am I mayonnaise? 
Peanut Butter? 
Chocolate or Nutella? 

One thing that is crystal clear to me is that there is way more to this being spread too thin thing than just having a lot on my to do list. The other thing that I can't help but notice is that there is a cyclical nature to whether or not I am spread too thin or too thick. Even in times when it seems like I have way too many plates spinning at once, there is a likelihood that things will lighten up after a temporary surge. I try my best not to live in my old paradigm mindset that things are never going to let up. It just isn't true.

As a general rule, I avoid using the word busy. My sense us that the word busy can serve as both a shield and an excuse. I can't help but notice that there are some people who almost always answer "Busy!" when you greet them and ask them how they are doing. Being someone who used to do that exact same thing, I now tend to prefer to say things I'm having a full day or that a number or rivers of my life are coming into confluence right now. I am truly grateful to be involved in so many wonderful things in life that I am careful not to make it appear that I am complaining about my many blessings. I also notice that when people think I am busy, they don't reach out because they don't want to add to my burden. Nothing could be further from the truth. It is in my busiest times that I actually NEED people to reach out, friends and clients alike. 

In fact, I now tend to think that it is blessing to be spread too thin! If I only had a few limited interests, my sense is that my ability to be hyper focused would be much TOO focused on only one thing and I would constantly be burning myself (and others) out with my intensity level. I have often joked with myself and those who are close to me that I recognize that that small doses of Jim Herbert are sometimes easier to digest than larger doses. 

If you are like the many people I talk to these days who feel like they are spread too thin, it's definitely is a good idea to figure out which things in your life matter the most and make those the top priorities in your life. My invitation to you is to not just stop there though, << Test First Name >>. Perhaps ask yourself some curious questions. Are you mayonnaise or peanut butter? Are you actually being served by being too thin instead of thicker? Take a little time to look at the larger story behind being spread too thin and see what you can learn about yourself in the process. If you would like any help with that, I'm never spread too thin to make time to work with your on your own journey to greater self awareness. 

Well that's all for this time. Peace and blessings for an amazing week, 

Jim