We all know the benefit of taking time to assess what’s accumulated over the course of a year — clearing out clothes, old workout gear, or that As Seen On TV car cleaning kit still sitting in the box.
But what about the invisible clutter that can have a similar claustrophobic effect? What about the habits and routines we’ve picked up that now leave us busy, scattered, and with little room for wonder, exploration, or a sense of calm?
For me, one of those habits is saying “yes” when I should say “no.” It’s led to being overwhelmed by too many commitments and responsibilities. These days, that’s been weighing me down — and it needed a hard look.
That process has led me to cut back the number of men I sponsor in recovery, cap the number of clients I work with, and even establish a waitlist for new clients. I’ve also trimmed the number of recovery and mindfulness meetings I attend each week.
I mentioned a few weeks ago that my wife and I are doing some work on the house, and nothing highlights what’s extraneous in life quite like a home renovation. Moving out for a month and finding a place to live in the meantime has taken my usually chill demeanor and cranked it to an 11.
As the stress ramped up, I started taking a hard inventory of what brings value to my life and what doesn’t. Making those cuts — limiting new clients, stepping back from meetings, and letting go of some sponsees — has been hard. It’s so counter-cultural to do less and scale back. But when discomfort rises high enough, something has to give.
When I talked to my Dharma teacher, coach, and sponsor and shared what my days and weeks looked like, they all laughed and asked:
“What’s going on with you, dude? Why are you overbooking yourself so hard? What’s that about?”
Good question.
- Am I staying so busy to avoid thinking about something?
- Is this just a lack of awareness, letting habits snowball over time?
- Or is there some childhood wiring that makes me want to prove myself by doing everything all the time?
I don’t have all the answers yet. But I do know that in early recovery, it made sense to stay busy and do a lot of service work — to get my sea legs as a sober man. Now, with 23 years in recovery, I don’t need to treat my disease the same way I did back then.
In early sobriety, there was a lot of efforting — now, it’s more about practicing the principles I’ve learned in the everyday moments. (I’m sure there’s a jiu-jitsu or gold-panning metaphor here, but it’s not coming to me yet.)
Here’s what I’m realizing:
We adopt behaviors that serve us well at one point in life, but there isn’t always a clear signal when it’s time to let them go.
It reminds me of Richard Rohr’s story about “discharging your loyal soldier”:
“At the end of the war, some Japanese communities had the wisdom to understand that many of their returning soldiers were not prepared to reenter civil, peaceful society. So the communities created a ceremony where the soldier was publicly thanked for their service. After being honored, an elder would stand and say: ‘The war is over. The community needs you to let go of what has served us well up to now. Now we need you to return as a parent, a partner, a friend, a mentor — something beyond a soldier.’”
That story has stuck with me.
Now, I want to be clear about something — for you and for me:
Sponsoring guys isn’t bad. Attending lots of recovery meetings isn’t bad. Taking on a full load of clients isn’t bad. These are good things. Things that have served me incredibly well.
But too much of a good thing can still tip you out of balance. Right now, I need to get some of that time and space back — to restore the equilibrium that I lost in the chase to serve others or grow my work.
So here’s my unsolicited suggestion to you this week:
Take a little time to inventory your habits and routines. By their nature, habits run on autopilot — which can be helpful. But every now and then, especially as spring rolls in, it’s worth looking closely:
- What’s working or what energizes you?
- What’s weighing you down?
- What might be ready to go?
My hunch is that if you let go of a few things and make space for what’s next, you’ll feel light, lean, and more energized about what’s to come.
See you next week,
Parker