Maybe the lesson isn’t to push harder. Maybe it’s to recognize when you’re full.

So today is the second Monday in a row that I’ve had plumbing problems at my house.

Last Monday, plumbing issues.

This Monday, plumbing issues.

And at some point this morning, I found myself thinking:

Okay, God. What are You trying to tell me? I’m listening.

Because apparently we’re doing object lessons through plumbing now. 😂

And here’s the thing. We aren’t throwing crazy things down the toilet. Nobody flushed a towel, a toy, or something that obviously doesn’t belong there.

There is just a clog.

Something isn’t moving through the way it’s supposed to.

And while I was waiting for the plumbing situation to be resolved, it got me thinking about something I talk about often in coaching:

Capacity.

How many spoons do you have today?

There’s a concept often called “spoon theory” that uses spoons as a simple way of thinking about the amount of physical, mental, and emotional energy we have available.

So let’s imagine that on a really good day, you wake up with 25 spoons.

You slept well.

Your body feels good.

You’re emotionally grounded.

Nothing major is weighing on your mind.

You have energy to work, exercise, care for other people, make decisions, cook dinner, walk the dog, answer the text messages and maybe even deal with an unexpected problem without completely losing your marbles.

That’s a 25-spoon day.

But then there are other days.

You didn’t sleep well.

You’re worried about someone you love.

You’re caregiving.

You’re grieving.

Your body hurts.

You’re stressed about work.

Your hormones are doing whatever adventure they’ve decided we’re going on today.

Or maybe you can’t even identify one particular thing. You simply wake up and realize:

I don’t have 25 spoons today.

Maybe you have 12.

Maybe you have 10.

Maybe you have 6.

And here’s where I think we get ourselves into trouble:

We still expect 25-spoon performance from a 10-spoon body.

We look at the same to-do list.

We expect the same productivity.

We say yes to the same responsibilities.

We take care of everybody else.

We keep pushing.

And then something unexpected happens.

The toilet backs up.

Someone needs you.

The phone rings.

Plans change.

There’s an appointment you forgot about.

The dog needs something.

And suddenly that unexpected situation just ate four of the ten spoons you had for the entire day.

Now you’re standing there holding your remaining six spoons thinking:

But I still have all of this to do.

Maybe you don’t.

Your capacity is not your capability

This is an important distinction.

Having less capacity today does not mean you are less capable.

It doesn’t mean you’ve become lazy.

It doesn’t mean you’re failing.

It doesn’t mean you need to try harder.

It simply means that today’s available resources are different.

And maybe that’s where we need to become a little more curious and a little less critical of ourselves.

Instead of asking:

What’s wrong with me today?

Try asking:

What is taking up my capacity today?

Maybe your body is already using energy managing pain.

Maybe your heart is carrying grief.

Maybe your mind has been quietly running through worst-case scenarios since 4:00 this morning.

Maybe caregiving has required you to stay alert for so long that you don’t realize how much energy that vigilance consumes.

Those things count.

Even when nobody else can see them.

Check your capacity before you spend it

This is where I come back to a framework I’ve developed in my own coaching work.

Before automatically pushing through, I stop and check in.

BODY:
What is happening physically? Am I tired? Tense? Hurting? Rested? Energized?

HEART:
What am I carrying emotionally today?

MIND:
What is occupying my thoughts? What am I worrying about, planning, anticipating, or replaying?

SPIRIT:
Where am I feeling grounded? Where am I feeling depleted? Where might God be asking me to loosen my grip a little?

Then I ask:

Given all of that, how many spoons do I actually have today?

Not how many I wish I had.

Not how many I had yesterday.

Not how many everyone else seems to have.

How many do I have today?

And then comes the harder question:

What deserves them?

Maybe dinner doesn’t need to be homemade tonight.

Maybe the laundry waits.

Maybe the workout becomes a walk.

Maybe you don’t return every phone call.

Maybe you say no to something you normally would have squeezed in.

Maybe one of those remaining spoons belongs to sitting outside with a cup of coffee.

Maybe one belongs to prayer.

Maybe one belongs to absolutely nothing.

Because rest doesn’t have to be what happens after you’ve spent every last spoon.

Rest can be one of the things you intentionally spend your capacity on.

And apparently, God sent me a clogged toilet

Twice.

Two Mondays in a row.

Message received. 😂

Because maybe there’s a lesson hiding in something as ridiculous as plumbing.

When a system has reached capacity, continuing to force more into it doesn’t make things move faster.

Sometimes it creates a bigger mess.

We’re not all that different.

There are days to push.

There are days to stretch.

There are days when we have 25 spoons and can pour ourselves into the world.

And there are days when wisdom looks like recognizing:

I have 10 today.

So I’ll choose those 10 carefully.

I’ll give some to the people I love.

I’ll give some to the things that truly matter.

I’ll save at least one for myself.

And I’ll trust that tomorrow’s capacity may look completely different.

Because maybe the goal was never to prove how much we can carry.

Maybe the lesson is learning to recognize when we’re full.

And, God willing, maybe next Monday’s lesson won’t involve a plumber. 😂