I’ve been thinking lately about what it means to navigate a life, and particularly about the energy we expend as caregivers when we are caring for someone else.
Caregiving asks us to navigate so much more than our own lives. We may be keeping track of appointments, medications, changing symptoms, transportation, meals, finances, family communication, and countless decisions that need to be made. Sometimes we are quite literally helping to navigate someone else’s life while still trying to live our own.
We can count the hours caregiving takes and recognize many of its physical demands. But there is another kind of energy I don’t think we name often enough: emotional energy.
Yesterday I was thinking about a friend who is caring for her adult daughter through a serious medical condition. She is tired much of the time. Of course she is. Her daughter’s illness doesn’t occupy only the hours when she is actively doing something for her. The emotions travel with her. 
There is the worrying, watching, and wondering. There is anticipating what might happen next and trying to be prepared for it. There are decisions to consider, conversations to replay, possibilities to hold, and emotions that don’t disappear simply because there is nothing more to be done at that particular moment.
All of this takes energy. And emotional energy doesn’t show up on a step counter or get measured.
I know something about this from my own years of caregiving. My husband’s needs gradually occupied more of my world, and his world became more and more a part of mine. His uncertainties became something I carried as well. At times, I held some of the emotional weight when it was simply too much for him to hold himself.
Love asks things of us. So does responsibility. The question isn’t necessarily whether I should be giving so much. The question may simply be whether I recognize that I am.
This is where I find myself thinking about that capacity within me to notice where I am, orient myself to what is happening, reflect on what I am experiencing, and choose how I want to respond. It doesn’t make difficult decisions disappear or give me control over what happens to someone I love. But it can help me notice what I am carrying.
I can ask myself: Where is my energy going? What am I carrying that no one else can see?
For me, journaling is one way I listen for those answers. For someone else, it might happen while walking, sitting quietly with a cup of coffee, talking with a trusted friend, praying, creating something, or simply giving themselves a few undisturbed minutes to notice what is happening inside. The method matters less to me than the noticing.
One of the most important things we can do as caregivers is to name, claim, and validate the emotional energy we are expending. Because once I recognize that emotional energy counts, I can begin to include it when I take my own bearings. I can notice not only what I am doing, but what I am carrying.
And recognizing it can help me remain present in my own life while I am helping someone I love navigate theirs.
Come Join Us
At this month’s Journaling Journeys Circle, we’ll spend some time exploring our own inner landscapes and becoming curious about where our energy is going and what we may be carrying without even realizing it.
From my heart to yours,
Cindy