Overload

I can’t talk about growing up without mentioning that I was raised in a magic store. The next questions are typically “Can you do magic?” or “Did you want to become a full-time magician?”

Magicians, like superheroes, like to tell their origin stories. They describe a special book they found in the library. They might even have a cool uncle or parent who showed them a magic trick. Some were really lucky and eventually received a whole magic set.

Their stories involve them wearing out that first book or trick. They went through the book cover to cover many times, sometimes even memorizing them. They dug deep into their few items and grew significantly from there.

The store was incredible. I had access to everything—all the tricks, books, and people. My unfiltered and unlimited access seems like I could have succeeded as a performer. Despite having limitless access, my short attention span worked against me. Before fully internalizing anything, I shuffled to the next trick or book.

In the wild, this is known as predator confusion. The nature documentaries will show a lion quietly approaching a herd of wildebeest. As soon as the herd detects danger, there is mayhem. The animals begin running, sometimes away, sometimes circling. The mob is overwhelming. This is an evolved response to confuse the lion and preserve their own lives. The lion has too many choices and may eventually miss all of them.

At times, I feel like I don’t have what I need to be successful. Most often, I already have enough. Even worse than enough is having too much to do anything. I become overwhelmed by the too much. What’s missing usually isn’t things. What’s missing is usually focus. Focus of attention, of priority, the focus of my effort. Sometimes, I am staring at too much. I must pick something and do it—completely.

Am I missing the wildebeest because I tried to get them all? Do I get overwhelmed by the options and not make a choice? Will I pick just one and do it?

Be curious, be kind, be whole, do good things.