Reach Out Chapter 6: Overload

Open and Relational Theology & Social Psychology

Little treasure at the end.

The 60-Second Read (Click to read)

Cognitive Load & Decision Fatigue: The things that take up room in our minds are a constant drain. We can handle a limited number of stressors at once. After that, our brain is depleted, and making even the smallest decision can feel like an insurmountable monster.

The Insight: When we are overwhelmed by the “big” problems, our executive function shuts down. We stop doing the little things (like laundry or dishes). And when we fail to do the little things, the guilt takes up even more room in our heads, creating a downward spiral.

The Action: Minimize multitasking and simplify complex information. Use to-do lists, notes, and visual aids to reduce memory demand. Take breaks to allow the brain time to recover from intense cognitive activity. Stop self-criticism; it’s counter-productive and uses up valuable mental bandwidth.

References: Cognitive Load Theory (John Sweller); Decision Fatigue & Ego Depletion (Roy Baumeister)

The_Family — The Family Gemini Generated Image

Reach Out Chapter 6: Overload

Elias sat at his desk looking at his computer, frozen in place, rubbing his forehead in frustration. The laptop’s cooling fan was whining like a jet engine. He had thirty-four tabs open, decorating the top of his browser like chaotic Christmas lights, and the machine was crawling. He watched a single page struggling to load, and in exasperation, he slammed the laptop closed and retreated to the living room.

Mary was sitting idly on the couch, her thumb mindlessly scrolling through things on her cell phone. The living room was the exact same mess it had been the day before.

“I thought we resolved everything yesterday,” Elias said, gesturing at the clutter. “We created a plan. Look at this house! I know, I know, it isn’t just your responsibility, it’s all of us. But what are we doing?”

Mary didn’t look up from her screen. “I’m waiting for the sky to fall. We still haven’t decided whether to take the offer on our home.”

“I’m bogged down. My computer is full of demons trying to steal all of my time. It needs prayer. I have endless directions to go in and I can’t think. I need an assistant.”

“And I forgot to go out and get the food we need to make lunch today,” Mary sighed, finally putting the phone down. “And we have to decide about selling our house. I think that’s more important than lunch. We have a 6:00 PM deadline.”

“I think it’s a bad deal,” Elias groaned, sinking into a chair. “I think they got wind I lost my job and now they’re swooping in like vultures to pick money from our bones.”

“I checked with a realtor and she said she could list it and get us more, but we would have to hang in here for at least three months. Do you think we can do that?”

“Our savings account is draining quickly. Unexpected car expenses are killing us. If we sell on the open market, we might have upgrades to do to make it inviting. Maybe some repairs. It all costs money. That’s all I got, Mary. I can’t think. It’s like I’m slogging through deep mud.”

Sarah walked into the room, took one look at her defeated parents, and put her hands on her hips. “It’s called cognitive overload.”

Elias blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Our teachers tell us about it when we’re having trouble preparing for tests,” Sarah lectured. “It’s when we have too much to think about and are trying to cram all the lessons into our head, but we’re also late for class, and we’re worried about making new cheerleader plans, and things are tense at home, and our boyfriend is giving us a hard time. We have to start preparing early, not wait until the last minute, because otherwise we’re flirting with disaster.”

“You have a boyfriend?!” Mary asked, suddenly highly alert.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Is that all you got from that?”

“We’re not in school, Sarah,” Elias said gently.

“No, but the same rule applies. I mean, here’s another one they warned us about. There are people who spend all of their time worrying about their looks and hating themselves. Their mind is so full of negative thoughts they can’t think. Then they blame themselves for doing poorly and hate themselves even more. It’s a downward spiral.”

Elias slowly sat up. “She’s right. I just realized… my brain is running exactly like my computer. I have thirty-four tabs open and it’s used up all my memory, so I’m running as slow as molasses.” He looked at his daughter with a newfound respect. “Sarah, I hope you do have a boyfriend. You deserve a good one.”

“I have a bunch of wannabes and I’m not that into any of them. They’re all immature idiots who do endless stupid stuff. I can’t wait for college.”

“A lot of them are the exact same in college,” Mary replied with a wry smile. “You just have to sort through them. It’s painful.”

“Anyway,” Elias said, clapping his hands on his knees. “We’ve been diagnosed. What do we do about it?”

Sarah shrugged. “Make a to-do list.”

“I hate to-do lists. They make me feel like a slave.”

“What would you do in business?” Mary challenged.

“Make a plan, and work the plan.”

“Go for it,” Sarah said with a big smile.

Elias stood up, the energy returning to his voice. “I thought I had these job applications under control, but I keep thinking of a whole bunch of places that could use systems architects for investigations besides lawyers. I don’t even know if ‘systems architect’ is the right title—it’s not descriptive enough. Hospitals have problems with doctors billing for more expensive operations than people get. Drugs disappear. Car insurance companies have problems with fraud and fake accidents. Trucking companies have cargo that disappears in transit. It ‘fell off the truck’ and ends up on online sales. Trade secrets—”

“Yes, we get it,” Mary interrupted, holding up a hand to stop the flood. “Go make a plan. Set your priorities.”

“There’s a lot of synchrony here. One thing leads to another—”

“Go!”

Elias marched back to his desk and opened his laptop. He grabbed a marker and a blank piece of printer paper. He drew a thick, dark box in the center of the page and wrote two specific items inside it. He tapped the paper with his pen, thinking, “Everything inside this box is what we control today. Everything outside is noise.”

Two hours later.

Elias stared at his screen. The email was drafted. He took a deep breath. “Self-doubt, take a hike. Just write the email and press enter. You’ve got this.”

He pushed the send button.

“Yay! Victory!” he whispered to the empty room.

Just as the email swooshed out of his outbox, his cell phone began to play its generic ringtone. The caller ID flashed an unknown number.

Mary appeared in the doorway, her face pale. She didn’t have to say the time. They both knew the 6:00 PM deadline had arrived.