Laughs, tears, and rodents with fancy tails

A story of overwhelm and redemption

Even before I got out of bed, I knew I’d waited too long to nourish my spirit. Last Monday, Day 3 of the long weekend, I woke up with an almost-desperate need to be in the woods, under the trees, breathing in the scent of earth and fir needles and mountain air.

My need to be free from my desk and work and conversation was so urgent and real, I felt like I could grab it with my hands. I had to get to the woods. Immediately.

Obstacles. The furry kind.

My first clue that things were not going well should have been the squirrel that ran away after I started our infrequently-used truck. But, as I already mentioned, I was a desperate woman on a mission.

Clue Number 2 should have been that when I started the truck, the engine seemed to run a bit raggedly. The closer I got to the gas station, the more roughly it ran. Then I started to notice a vaguely sweet, burning-paper smell.

By the time the truck was fueling up, I already knew I wasn’t going to make it to the woods. Not in this vehicle. And with mild curiosity, I opened the hood (knowing squat about engines) to see what the trouble might be.

Imagine my astonishment when Obstacle 3 presented itself. Technically, they were Obstacles Number 3, 4, and 5 – namely a grassy nest and two very pissed off, very frightened baby squirrels. Inside the engine compartment.

(Note: no animals were harmed in the making of this story.)

The signs and symptoms of overwhelm

As I mentioned, I was already emotionally stretched. I had been working 72 hour weeks, putting a lot of pressure on myself to produce, and was profoundly aware of a widening spiritual gap where my heart ought to be.

My first response? Hysterical laughter. Tears sprang to my eyes. I laughed so oddly, I think the fueling station guy was afraid. Incredulous, I called him over to look at the squirrels’ nest and he kept a safe distance. From me.

After I’d called Inspired Spouse for backup and two nature-loving friends for ideas, I sat in the cab of the truck at the gas station and burst into tears. Yup. While the poor squirrels cowered in the engine compartment, Inspired Spouse sat with me as I sobbed, “I just needed… a day… off.”

Folks, this is what we call overwhelm.

And you know it’s arrived when an event and the resulting response are significantly out of proportion. Shock and laughter, okay, that’s pretty normal. But sobbing about squirrels? Yeah. That’s overwhelm.

The rest of the story

While the following section has nothing to do with an inspired workspace, it would be unkind not to tell you how it all turned out.

After the crying, we attempted to make use of the enormous red ski gloves and cat carrier that Inspired Spouse had ingeniously brought. I will also confess my not-so-rational fear of wild animals. The 5-ounce baby squirrel proved no exception.

If you’ve never heard a baby squirrel scream and grunt and make as if it’s going to take your face off, let me tell you, it makes one’s blood run cold. At least it did mine. But Inspired Spouse, bless her, attempted the same maneuver and they skittered away among the hoses, out of reach.

Now out of options to rescue them, I decided to drive the 2 miles home. With the squirrels still under the hood. Shrieking with fear.

The lesson of the baby squirrels

We all arrived home safely and about an hour later, Mama Squirrel had relocated the nest (after telling us off). Whew.

Fortunately, I did get to the woods that day. It wasn’t the day I’d hoped for, but I ended up getting what I needed. No more sobbing for a while.

The lesson at the heart of drama is how important it is to pay attention to the subtle signs of overwhelm, before the big sobbing thing happens. In the weeks previous, I noticed but ignored, my short temper, the need for solitude, annoyance at loved ones, erratic driving, holding my breath, and eating weird food at weird hours.

I kept telling myself and others that I was “fine”, but the baby squirrels helped me see what was true. I needed a break. So do you.

Get out in the woods, your way

If you’re self-employed, or are caring for elderly relatives, or raising children, or managing an illness, or other things that consume physical and emotional energy, there’s an urge to keep pushing through. To deal.

However, refusing to take a break and get out in the proverbial woods leaves you empty and unable to respond when action is called for. It’s ironic that I needed my tank filled, just like the truck did. Except it’s so easy to forget.

So I invite you to inquire how close you are to overwhelm today… and notice if there’s something you need to stop for, so that you can fill up too. Before you get squirrely.

This post is one of a 4-part series on retreats. To read the rest, visit the links below:

Part 1: Laughs, Tears, and Rodents with Fancy Tails
Part 2: Get More Done by Not Doing Anything
Part 3: How the Retreat Really Went
Part 4: Is Your Spirit Tank on Empty? 10 steps to your retreat