Struggling to Do More: Finding Balance in the Noise

Lately I’ve been feeling a growing sense of unrest that’s hard to shake off. There’s pain in my body, anxiety in my chest, and an overwhelming pressure to do more, to create more, and to embrace one of my own key mantras.. keep moving forward. It’s like there’s this constant noise in my head telling me that if I’m not producing something, trying to “create something of value,” that I’m failing. Add to it the constant physical pain the last year that has impacted my ability to get out and fully engage in the things I enjoy, it just feels like my body is breaking down and I can’t seem to get a grip on any of it. There’s this growing sense of urgency and anxiety, like every minute needs to be spent moving towards something, and it’s fucking exhausting, leaving me wondering why I’m pushing so hard in the first place.

So, where did the pain come from? Well, there I was on the mountain, snowboard strapped to my feet, flying down the hill at what felt like 100mph and feeling like I did when I was in high school and snowboarding damn near every day, and I didn’t see the big drop towards the end of the run where a cat track cut across the run. I went airborne and ended up crashing down directly on my tailbone. The crash led to a herniated disc, and pain like have never experienced before from what turned into excruciating sciatica. I went to doctors, tried all the treatments they recommended: physical therapy, oral steroids, and multiple rounds of injections. I drastically cut back my running and overall physical activity hoping my body could heal, but nothing worked. After a few MRIs, it became clear that the nerve was pinched and my body wasn’t healing on it’s own. With a sharp pain that can only be described a fire and lightning bolts up and down my right side, occasional numbness, and a growing sense of overwhelm that I’m trapped in a body that was slowly falling apart, the doctors finally determined that surgery is the only option left. In a few short days that determination will become a reality, and I’m scared that it might not work. What will I do if I am still in pain? So I’ve tried to immerse myself in other positive activities to distract myself. Sometimes its works, most times it doesn’t.

At the same time, there’s this intense pressure I’ve been putting on myself to create. I’ve always had this internal drive to share my creative efforts and hopefully inspire others through the work I do, but all too often I have the creeping anxiety of wondering if I’m only adding to the noise. Is it really about sharing something meaningful, or am I just looking for validation, some external sign that I’m doing all right and on a path towards something bigger than just working a job I don’t particularly enjoy just because it pays me well? I’m always writing.. journals, poetry, novel starts.. all in an attempt to build something I can share with the world. But again I come back to the feeling that maybe I’m just adding to the growing noise of an increasingly noisy world. Inevitably I come back to the lingering question of: “Am I creating because I truly want to express myself, or am I doing it because I need validation and/or recognition?” It’s a question I haven’t been able to answer, and that uncertainty weighs on me, at times making the creative process feel more like an obligation than a joy. But I keep doing it anyway, journaling and trying to write things with meaning and impact, hundreds and hundreds of files and papers stacking up, turning that joy of the outlet into something I see turning into a mountain of material precariously balancing on the question of, “why am I even doing it anyway?”

I remember a time when writing came easier than it has been lately. It was just me, my pen, and the pages, with no expectations or deadlines. My mind was lost in the creativity with no expectations other than self-expression however it came out. I remember being inspired to write a poem after reading the book “James and the Giant Peach” that still sticks with me to this day. But now it’s like every project, every idea feels like a race against time, a desperate need to get the racing thoughts and ideas out before the anxiety eats me alive and my ever shortening attention span is shaken by some form of distraction, and it becomes less about the process and more about the end result which only suffers from my inability to stay in the moment, breath, and find a heathy and natural conclusion.

The worst part is that my mind feels like it’s always in overdrive. I jump from one idea to another, starting dozens of things but rarely finishing any of them. The pressure to constantly be productive is suffocating, and I wonder if I’ve somehow equated my worth with how much I can accomplish in a day. I’ve spend years pushing myself to hustle, to constantly be working on something, always moving toward the next goal. But in the process it seems like I’ve lost sight of why I started it all in the first place. The joy of creativity and the unrestrained self-expression.

Instead of feeling fulfillment, I feel drained. The idea of achieving more, creating more, and pushing forward feels like a never-ending cycle. The harder I push, the more I struggle to focus and finish anything. It’s exhausting and it feels like I’m stuck in this constant loop of trying to outrun my own expectations and the weight of the world’s demands, all of which I fully understand are a construct of my own mind.

In the quiet moments, though, I’m reminded that what really feeds my soul isn’t all the noise and “need” to create anything at all. It’s not in the constant grind of percieved productivity. It’s in the simple things — the times when I’m outside, in the mountains, on a trail, where the world gets quiet around me, and my thoughts get quiet in my head. I become fully present in the moment.

Or when I’m in the garage, lost in the rhythm of building something, turning a wrench, and feeling grounded. In those moments, everything else falls away, time slips away without me realizing it, and I feel connected and at peace.

And when I’m with my sweetheart and we’re not talking about work or goals, just being together, spending time on a drive or losing ourselves on a hike or backpacking trip, or even just sitting up at the cabin, enjoying the peace and solitude of a quiet space and each others company. That’s what feeds my soul. It’s in those small, simple moments that I find the space to breathe.

It’s a constant reminder that I don’t always need to be creating, and I don’t always need to be “moving forward” in the traditional sense. It’s okay to just be, to rest, to let go of the pressure to do more, worrying about what comes next. I remind myself to be grateful of all the wonderful things I do have in my life, and that periodically slowing down isn’t failure, but a necessary part of the process. Who knows, maybe if I can be a little easier on myself and allow time to slow down, I’ll find more of the clarity I’ve been looking for in the first place. Productivity for the sake of constant output doesn’t always equal to increased peace of mind. Maybe if I can be better about giving myself permission to breathe, I’ll rediscover the free flowing creativity that comes from having peace of mind, and not out of the self-imposed pressure to stack accomplishment after accomplishment.

For now, I’ll just keep trying to appreciate each and every moment as it comes, because if there is one big reminder I’ve had ringing in my head this last year it’s that nothing is guaranteed. Our time here is not limitless, and our bodies are not invisible. I don’t want to look back and have my biggest regret be I was always so focused on tomorrow and the drive of “productivity” for a future day that may never come overshadow my ability to appreciate the day that I do have.. today.

As I navigate through these layers of pain, anxiety, and the pressure to constantly do more, I’m starting to realize that slowing down is not the same as giving up. It's about being present, taking time to breathe, and reconnecting with what truly matters. The drive to create, be productive, and to achieve is important, but it can’t come at the cost of my own peace of mind. The quiet moments, whether it’s spending time in nature, working on my car, or simply being with my sweetheart, are where I find the most value, and I need to honor that with my full attention. So for now, I’ll take this brain dump as a reminder to focus on being present, and remembering that the importance of it all is to appreciate the journey, not being hyper focused on an arbitrary destination that will probably change anyway. And maybe by allowing myself some grace I can rediscover the flow of creativity that comes truly being at peace with when I am, and not from chasing the next big thing.

I sure hope this surgery is successful and I can get back to a life without all this pain. I need more time outside to feed my soul and inspire my mind.