Behind the Ball (Or: The Gift You're Calling Anxiety)
There was always a dream.
Just no idea how to break it down into something I could actually do.
The vision was big. Breathwork + Nervous system tools + Integrative coaching. Building something that actually serves people. But when the thing you want to create feels massive, you end up throwing random shit at the wall to see what sticks.
So much work. So much trying random things. Content here, program ideas there, pivoting, testing, staying with it even when I had no clue if any of it was working.
But I stuck with it.
And now this big thing has tangible shape. The dream has teeth. I can feel magnetically pulled in specific directions—nudges that tell me exactly where to spend my energy to keep the ball of momentum rolling forward.
That's the shift. Not from nothing to something, but from vague and massive to clear and actionable.
And with this clarity came a new sensation: the feeling of being behind the ball.
Behind the ball with the business tasks. Behind the content calendar. Behind the DMs, the programs I want to build, the clarity I wish I already had three months ago.
(The ball, in case you're wondering, is whatever matters most to you right now. The project. The business. The relationship. The thing you're actually building.)
It showed up as tightness in my chest. A low hum of fuck fuck fuck I'm so behind running underneath everything I did. My nervous system interpreting momentum as threat. Translating all this growth into the feeling of overwhelm.
Classic.
And then, mid-thought, I caught it.
2 years ago, I didn't have this kind of clarity. The ball wasn't even defined enough to be behind in the first place…
Now it is defined. It has shape. It has magnetism. And it speaks what it needs to keep rolling forward.
And that changes everything.
Here's what's actually happening:
You have a path. You can feel it inside. That sensation in your chest, that pull, that anxiousness about what you need to do, the clarity about where your energy needs to go—that is a gift.
But your nervous system is filtering it through scarcity. Through "I'm not doing enough." Through "I'm falling behind."
The feeling isn't the problem. The interpretation is.
Your nervous system doesn't know the difference between momentum and threat. It's programmed to scan for danger. So when you finally have direction—when there's actually a ball to follow—it translates that clarity into panic.
"I'm behind" is just your system's way of saying: I know what matters now.
Even though you’re experiencing it initially as anxiety, it’s actually your soul quietly giving you nudges on where to spend your energy. It's showing you exactly where to go next.
You're just misinterpreting the signal.
Slow down enough to recognize this—to realize the feeling isn't "I'm failing," it's "I have direction"—and everything shifts.
You stop creating from depletion. You stop letting urgency override wisdom. You start building with the clarity instead of against it.
That sensation you're calling "behind"? That's the gift of finally knowing where you're going.
Here's what you do when you catch the I'm so behind loop running:
Stop. Literally stop moving for 10 seconds.
Notice where the tension is. Chest? Jaw? Shoulders? That's your nervous system in threat mode. (Spoiler: you're not being chased by a bear. You just have shit to do.)
Exhale longer than you inhale. Three rounds.
Not because it's calming. Because it shifts your CO₂ tolerance and signals your brainstem that you're not dying. Physiology before psychology.
Then reframe the information:
"I feel behind" = "I now know exactly where my energy needs to go."
You're not trying to feel better. You're extracting the signal from the noise.
Then ask one question:
"What's the next right action that serves the direction, not the panic?"
One action. Not ten. Not the whole to-do list.
Build with the momentum. Not against your nervous system.
The sensation isn't lying to you. It's just filtered wrong.
You do have momentum. You do have direction. Your soul is giving you nudges about where to spend your energy.
The work isn't catching up. The work is recognizing that what you're calling "behind" is actually the gift of finally having a path.
When you create space around that—when you slow down for rest, for connection, for the things that fuel your highest expression—you're not falling further behind.
You're honoring the clarity. You're building the architecture that sustains the momentum.
The feeling you're calling "behind" is actually direction.
And direction is a gift.
Use it as a compass, not a cage.