When Everything Feels Like It's Moving at Once: A Seven-Year Reflection

July 12th marks seven years since I founded EBO Consulting Inc. As I sit here reflecting on this milestone, I can't help but think about how dramatically the landscape of running a business has changed, and how my relationship with overwhelm has evolved along with it.

Last week, in preparation for this anniversary, I found myself staring at my computer screen at 6 PM, surrounded by three different to-do lists, a buzzing phone, two stacks of paperwork, and a coffee cup that had been empty for hours. I was trying to simultaneously review a client proposal, respond to an urgent email about a board meeting, coordinate schedules across three time zones, and remember whether I'd followed up on that grant application deadline.

For a moment, just a moment, I felt completely overwhelmed. Not by any single task, but by the sheer volume of moving parts that seemed to demand my attention all at once.

Seven years ago, when I was starting EBO, I thought this feeling would eventually go away. I believed that once I "figured it out," business would become more manageable, more predictable. What I've learned instead is that the complexity only grows, but so does your capacity to handle it.

The Evolution of Overwhelm

When I think back to Year One of EBO, my overwhelm was different. It was simpler, in a way. I worried about finding clients, delivering quality work, and keeping the lights on. The moving parts were fewer but felt more existential.

Now, seven years in, the moving parts have multiplied exponentially. We're managing cross-border team coordination with Judith in Mexico, multiple service lines, various compliance requirements, partnership agreements, and client needs that span from startups to established organizations. We have our Howwe partnership for strategic development, marketing packages with different tiers, board memberships to maintain, and speaking engagements to prepare for.

The overwhelm today isn't about survival, it's about excellence at scale. And that's actually progress, even when it doesn't feel like it.

The Myth of Having It All Together After Seven Years

Here's something I don't think we talk about enough: even those of us who've been doing this for nearly a decade, who specialize in organization and systems, still sometimes feel like we're drowning in our own complexity. I've built my career helping other businesses create efficient processes, yet I still have days where I question whether I'm missing something critical or dropping a ball that will come back to haunt me.

The difference isn't that successful business owners never feel overwhelmed after seven years, it's that we've learned to work with overwhelm rather than against it. We've developed systems not because we're naturally organized (though some of us are), but because we had to find ways to function when our brains felt like browser windows with 47 tabs open.

In Year Two, I used to think that admitting to feeling overwhelmed meant I wasn't cut out for this work. Now, in Year Seven, I understand that overwhelm is simply information, it's my brain's way of telling me that my current systems aren't adequate for my current reality.

Seven Years of Increasing Complexity

The reality of modern business complexity has shifted dramatically even in the seven years EBO has been operating. When I started in 2018, the moving parts felt manageable. Client relationships, basic marketing, financial tracking, service delivery. Social media was simpler. Remote work was an exception, not the norm. The compliance landscape was less complex.

Fast forward to 2025, and every business owner is expected to be their own marketing manager, social media coordinator, financial analyst, HR department, strategic planner, and now, post-pandemic, remote work expert. Add AI considerations, evolving privacy regulations, and constantly changing digital platforms, and it's no wonder so many of us feel like we're constantly playing catch-up.

The question isn't whether you'll feel overwhelmed, it's how you'll respond when you do.

When Seven Years of Experience Still Doesn't Feel Like Enough

There's a particular kind of self-doubt that comes with managing multiple complex projects, and it doesn't necessarily diminish with experience. Sometimes it gets more nuanced. It's not just "Am I good enough?" It's "Am I missing something obvious that someone with seven years of experience should catch?" or "Should I be better at this by now?"

I remember a particularly challenging period in Year Five when we were managing several major client transitions simultaneously while also bringing Judith onto the team and implementing new international coordination systems. I found myself questioning whether I had the bandwidth to serve my clients effectively, whether I was in over my head, whether someone else could do this better.

The doubt was compounded by the fear that if I admitted I was struggling, clients would lose confidence in our ability to help them organize their own operations. How could I help other businesses get their processes together if I felt like I was barely keeping my own head above water?

What I've learned over these seven years is that this feeling doesn't disqualify you, it's part of the job.

Systems That Have Evolved Over Seven Years

Here's what seven years has taught me about managing complexity: you can't rely on willpower or working harder. You need systems that function even when you're tired, distracted, or dealing with multiple crises at once. But more importantly, you need systems that can evolve as your business grows.

The Brain Dump System: This started simple in Year One and has become more sophisticated. Every week, I spend 20 minutes writing down everything that's on my mind, every task, worry, idea, or commitment. Not to create a to-do list, but to get it out of my head so I can see what I'm actually dealing with. Often, the overwhelm comes not from having too much to do, but from carrying too much mental load.

The Weekly Review: This practice has been crucial for seven years, but what I review has changed dramatically. It's not just looking at your calendar anymore. It's asking: What went well this week? What fell through the cracks? What patterns am I noticing? Where did I spend time on things that didn't move us forward? How are our team dynamics evolving? What do our clients need that we're not providing yet?

The Decision Framework: When you're overwhelmed, every decision feels urgent and important. Over the years, I've refined this into categorizing decisions: urgent and important (do now), important but not urgent (schedule), urgent but not important (delegate), and neither urgent nor important (eliminate). This framework has prevented me from treating every email like a five-alarm fire.

The Delegate-or-Document Rule: This has been essential as we've grown from a solo operation to a three-person team spanning two countries. If I find myself doing the same type of task more than twice, I either delegate it or document the process so it can be delegated later. This rule has been crucial as client needs have become more complex and as we've expanded our service offerings.

Seven Years of Working with Uncertainty

Perhaps the biggest shift in my thinking over these seven years has been accepting that I will never have perfect information or complete control over all the moving parts. There will always be some level of uncertainty, some risk that I'm missing something important.

Instead of trying to eliminate this uncertainty (which I spent probably the first three years attempting), I've focused on building resilience into our systems. We have regular check-ins with clients not just to deliver updates, but to catch anything that might be slipping through the cracks. We build buffers into our timelines. We document our processes not just for efficiency, but so that if someone is out sick or overwhelmed, others can step in.

Most importantly, I've learned to distinguish between productive concern and unproductive worry. Productive concern leads to action—creating a new system, scheduling a follow-up, or having a difficult conversation. Unproductive worry just loops in your head without leading to any constructive outcome.

The Long View on Seven Years of Overwhelm

Here's something that might sound counterintuitive: over these seven years, I've come to view periods of overwhelm as growth signals. They usually indicate that our capacity, systems, or team structures haven't caught up with our current reality. Instead of seeing overwhelm as a personal failing, I try to see it as useful data about what needs to change.

Looking back, every major period of overwhelm in EBO's history has preceded a significant evolution. Year Two overwhelm led to better client management systems. Year Four overwhelm led to bringing Mitch in as CEO. Year Six overwhelm led to expanding our team internationally with Judith.

When I feel like there are too many moving parts, it often means we're at a point where we need to level up our operations, bring in additional team members, or redesign our processes. It's not comfortable, but it's often a sign that we're expanding beyond our current systems, which is actually a good problem to have.

Seven Years In: What I Know Now

As I celebrate this seven-year milestone, I don't have all the answers, and honestly, I'm still figuring this out as I go. Some weeks I feel like we have our systems dialed in perfectly, and other weeks I feel like I'm barely keeping up. The difference now is that I don't interpret the challenging weeks as evidence that I'm not cut out for this work.

If you're feeling overwhelmed by all the moving parts in your business, if you're questioning whether you're the right person to be making these decisions, if you're worried about what might be falling through the cracks, you're not alone, and you're not failing. You're just operating in a complex environment that requires more sophisticated systems than what you might have started with.

Seven years has taught me that the goal isn't to eliminate overwhelm entirely. It's to build systems and practices that help you function effectively even when things feel chaotic. Because in today's business environment, chaos isn't a bug, it's a feature. The question is how well you'll learn to dance with it.

And after seven years of dancing, I can tell you it gets easier, not because the music slows down, but because you get better at hearing the rhythm.