Navigating the Firehose
This wasnāt designed to compete for your attentionāit was built to honor it.
This post might take five minutes to read.
Thatās the point.
Because lately, Iāve been overwhelmed.
Not by any one thingābut by all the things.
Iāve got three inboxes.
I skim, delete, flag, unsubscribe, re-subscribe.
Somewhere in there are the 20% that matter. The 20% that might matter.
And the 60% that I need to automate, filter, or nuke into oblivion.
But Iām also building a startup.
Iām mentoring other founders.
Iām trying to absorb every crumb of insight on AI, marketing, sales strategy, climate policy, and circular design.
So, when I find a post someone I admire shares on Substack:
"Just read this." they said.
Itās Naomi Klein. In The Guardian.
Like it was so good, it wasnāt worth summarizing.
And I wanted to.
I admire Naomi Klein. Iāve read several of her books. I trust her voice.
So I clicked.
It was a Saturday morning. The kids hadnāt fully emerged yet, but I could hear them upstairsāthe shower door sliding open, a drawer clicking shut.
I knew the āquietā window was closing.
I want to get itāto fully digest her take on fascism, culture wars, and climate collapse.
All the scary things.
But itās Saturday morning.
I read as fast as I could. And every sentence required energy.
The kind of energy that asks you to pause, think, reflect, maybe even Google a few things to catch up.
And while I wanted to be immersed in it, I was already halfway out.
Thinking about breakfast.
Thinking about the dinner I had to prepare later.
Thinking about whether Iād remember to come back to this article at all.
And this brilliant article?
Another equally brilliant email interview with so-and-so?
The next module release from the online course Iām taking?
Together, it asks more of me than I can give.
Thatās the thing about the influx of information.
Itās not just email inboxes and newsletters.
Itās this quiet pressure to be caught up on everything ALL THE TIME.
For the sake of your own work and finding your own voice.
You have to know whatās going on, right?
And I want to catch it all.
I care deeply.
But the capacity just isnāt there.
So I do what many of us do:
I log it. Bookmark it. Tell myself Iāll come back.
Maybe Iāll ask ChatGPT for a summary.
And I feel... a little defeated.
Like maybe Iām not smart enough.
Or dedicated enough.
Or maybe Iām just human.
This is the firehose.
And itās not just coming at us.
If weāre creators, founders, experts, or communicators, we often add to it.
Even with the best of intentions. Even with something meaningful to say.
Thatās part of why I started writing here.
To make space for those who care⦠but donāt have the bandwidth to decode everything.
To find smaller ways in.
Not to shrink the truth, but to carve a clearer path to it.
And offer a sprinkle of hope, laughter and inspiration if Iāve done it well.
And Iām curious:
What helps you navigate the firehose?
Do you save things and come back?
Do you use tools? Ignore it all? Feel it constantly?
How are you figuring it out?
Hi Heather! I've enjoyed catching up with your writing here. To answer your final question... I've been there, in the intense desire to not miss anything, but it is exhausting. Also, I hit a wall, and just dropped a lot of the striving from my life. I still get sucked into the New York Times, and here on Substack. Long form stuff. But I gave up most social media years ago. I don't miss it.
I get too many emails still, but I don't feel overwhelmed because my inbox has some automations set-up, so I don't have to look at most non-personal, non-urgent, less-important messages unless I want to. When I feel like it, I do a "cleanup", and delete old unread messages en masse. I've been unsubscribing from things, and using search folders with automated categorization to deal with stuff in bulk.
The main thing was I realized that I didn't need to consume everything. I allow the universe to intervene. I trust that things will come to my attention when I need them to. I allow serendipity to surface information at the right time.