Have you ever run out of gas?
Whether you simply overlooked the gauge on the dashboard, or you find yourself out in the middle of nowhere with no gas station in sight, running out of gas is never a comfortable feeling.
There’s that uneasy feeling that rises up through your body as you hear the gasps the car makes as it consumes the last fumes in the tank. Then nothing. You find yourself on the side of the road wondering how you’ll reach your destination.
If your experience is anything like mine, you also feel a bit embarrassed that you didn’t get gas earlier. You’d passed gas stations not too long ago, but you thought you’d be fine. You can make it to the next station. Only to discover there wasn’t enough gas in the tank to get there.
It usually turns out okay. You refill the tank and get back on the road. Sometimes, the cost is higher. I still wonder if the end of life for my Toyota Altima came prematurely because I had let it run out of gas. It simply didn’t operate the same afterwards.
Here we’re talking about cars with dashboards and warning signals. There are many conveniences in modern cars to prevent us from running out of gas. Yet, it still happen.
On the other hand, when we are talking about the internal fuel that keeps us going, there are not the same conveniences. No lights on the dashboard. No voices or beeps that say, “You’re running out of gas.”
Or is there?
There was a time in my career, when I kept pushing beyond my tank’s capacity. I was working long hours. Getting little sleep. Doing very little, if any, self-care. I had a job that I kept going to because that is what I felt was necessary. If any kinds of warnings emerged, I simply pushed them to the back of my mind.
I didn’t have time to deal with things that I could simply push myself through. I had long prided myself on being able to get things done. I was regularly called on at work to find answers and solutions others couldn’t. I was known as the King of Excel and Doctor Garvin.
I was confident in my knowledge of technology. I was confident in my ability to work long hours.
I disregarded the little warning signs on my internal dashboard that things were not working as they should. It started with little things. Words that slipped into conversations.
When I had a task to do that I didn’t want to do, I’d say things like, “I’d rather jump off a bridge than do that.”
I just thougth it was colloqiual language. Being playful with words.
But there came a time when I simply couldn’t move forward. I’d run out of gas. As had happened when my car ran out of gas, no matter how I felt it my duty to go just a little further at work, it simply wasn’t going to happen. There was nothing left in the tank.
I had disregarded the warning signs for too long. The low energy. The sluggish feeling inside.
And like running out of gas can damage a fuel pump, pushing myself beyond my capacity had damaging effects on my internal organs, too.
Towards the end of another long year, I came down with a bad cough. A cough that was so bad that I’d literally black out. I sounded like a barking seal.
Yet, I had work to do. I didn’t have the luxury of being able to take time off. I needed to push through it. Not only my own perception but also the perception of my boss. It was clear what she expected. Just do the work. Work through the coughs.
But those coughs, like the last gasps of a car running out of fuel, would not be ignored. They were signs that something more serious was imminent.
I was at a church meeting where a doctor was present. She heard me cough and knew immediately what was going on. I had whooping cough.
I’d pushed myself too far, and I was paying the cost. The doctor ordered me to five weeks of time off from work. Part of me was relieved. I could finally get some much needed rest. Part of me was anxious that I wasn’t meeting my work obligations.
I returned to work a week earlier. I thought I could make it. I couldn’t. My tank was empty. I was burned out.
Sometimes, though, running out of gas can be the necessary wake-up call. When I found myself burnt out, I realized I couldn’t continue in the same fashion as I had before. I needed to pay better attention to the gauges on my internal dashboard.
In this case, that meant learning to read and pay attention to emotions I’d long neglected. For far too long, I’d avoided looking closely at my emotions. They were interferences that got in the way of the work I really had to do.
It wasn’t until I began rebuilding myself from the inside that I began to appreciate how valuable those internal signals are. After years of therapy, the loss of much of our financial resources, and the start of more healthful practices, I now place a high value on watching the warning lights.
Today, I begin and end each day by checking in and noting how I am feeling. Am I enjoying my activities, my relationships, myself? If not, then I know it’s time to pull into the gas station and refill.
My gas station is physical exercise, meditation, writing, a conversation with a supportive friend, asking for help. There are many ways to refuel. The important thing is that I make it a practice to do so regularly rather than wait until I’ve run out and the warning signs flash.
How do you ensure your internal tank is refilled?