Capacity Check #7
3.10.26
Here’s where I am today.
1. Capacity: What is my capacity today?
(Physical, emotional, mental, energetic)
Today my capacity feels like:
60%. 6 spoons.
If I’m honest, I’ve been in denial about breaking my hand and what it means.
The moment it happened, I was shocked by the pain. But since I had a task to complete (i.e., getting rid of the mouse), I ignored it and kept going.
Afterwards, once the adrenaline rush had ended, I could feel the pain more vividly. I saw my hand immediately swell. I tried to ”fix” what I thought was just a dislocated finger. When that didn’t work, I went to sleep hoping it’d be better when I woke up.
At the ER, my jaw dropped when the doctor informed me I’d broken my hand. I laughed as they put on a temporary cast because this must be a joke, right? This has never happened to me before. I guess I thought it wouldn’t ever happen.
At the orthopedic clinic, I sat in disbelief-fueled amazement watching the cast be put on. Hearing I’d need to heal for 6 weeks. That I’d need to limit movement of the injured hand.
“I have to work. I have to live. I have things to do,” I thought to myself. “I have to take care of myself.”
I knew what the stakes were. I’d heard the doctor’s guidance. But it still wasn’t registering. Not entirely.
Going against my own advice, I kept trying to overcome the issue instead of surrendering to it. When the pain was at bay thanks to medication, I’d instinctually go to reach for something. So much so that my sister “told” on me to the family, saying, “She won’t stop using the injured hand!”
As a self-sufficient, high-achieving, over-functioning Type A+++ control freak, my entire identity is wrapped up in being and feeling competent enough to do any and everything.
I deluded myself into thinking I could get back to work after only a few days. I tried “practicing” getting back in the swing of things by trying to type while getting life admin done. It hurt, it was frustrating, it was tiring.
When I finally decided to heed the warnings about needing to limit movement, I knew I needed to take time off work. And in true Jocelyn fashion, I felt guilty about it.
Everyone else saw the need for real time to heal before I did:
“Good you’re taking time. I was surprised you were gonna go back so quickly!”
Why hadn’t I seen it? Why did I think I could push through?
Not because I hadn’t heard the doctor’s advice.
Not because it didn’t hurt when I ignored that advice.
Because as a self-sufficient, high-achieving, over-functioning Type A+++ control freak, my entire identity is wrapped up in being and feeling competent enough to do any and everything, no matter how hard or how painful.
But that’s a story for another day.
2. Surrender: How can I honor that truth today?
(No need to overcome, just honor.)
To honor my capacity, I’m:
Taking the time I need to heal. Making it a priority. Using the resources I have at my disposal to get and ask for help (dictation apps and settings are extremely helpful).
3. Boundaries: What boundary needs to be set or softened?
(External or internal. Big or small.)
The boundary I’m practicing today is:
Moving slower and letting that be OK. Not jumping to help others when I can barely help myself.
4. Release Valve: How will I release?
(Let that energy move!)
My release valve today:
Interestingly enough, I’m releasing by relaxing. Like actually relaxing.
Feels oxymoronic but it’s the only way.
Also, rewatching Morning Glory with Rachel McAdams and Harrison Ford gave me a good cry.
That’s what I’ve got.
x, Jocelyn J
If you’re journaling along, share your capacity in the comments. No context required.