How Much is Too Much?

I’ve been thinking a lot about expansiveness lately.
How big the world is. How many good causes there are. How many rooms I’m invited into. And then the harder question: How many should I actually enter?
There are seasons when saying yes feels like growth. New boards, new projects, new circles doing meaningful work. It’s energizing—like stretching muscles I didn’t know I had. Like proof that I care. And I’ve been deep in this phase for the past year. But, I’m remembering that expansiveness has a shadow side.
For me, every yes is also a quiet no—to time, focus, rest, depth. When the yeses multiply, something subtle begins to thin. I start showing up everywhere but not always fully. My calendar is full, but my attention is fragmented. My heart is in many places, but my presence is diluted. I hate to admit it, but I currently am reading five books. FIVE.
I see this especially in my philanthropic and volunteer life.
The needs are endless. The invitations are compelling. And for those of us wired to help, it can feel almost wrong to narrow our vision. Who am I to choose this issue over that one? This board and not that one? This committee will only meet once or twice, they tell me. How do I say no to that?
But here’s what I’m slowly remembering: Breadth feels generous, yet depth is transformative.
I love expansive thinking. It reminds me how interconnected everything is—education and health, arts and justice, local and global. It keeps me from becoming small.
But grounded action requires focus.
Legacy doesn’t come from scattering myself across every worthy cause. It comes from choosing—thoughtfully, intentionally—where I want to plant my feet and say: Here. This is where I’ll stay long enough to matter.
I think about all the places I show up. Each reflects a piece of my values—learning, community, dignity, memory, opportunity. The expansiveness isn’t random. It tells a story about what I believe.
But every story needs editing.
Priorities aren’t about saying “no” to the world. They’re about translating expansive values into focused action. They’re the bridge between a big heart and a sustainable life. Between caring about everything and actually moving something forward.
In a world that constantly pulls me outward, priorities bring me back inward—to my values, my capacity, my season of life.
Expansiveness of vision. Groundedness of action. Both matter.
The goal isn’t to shrink my world. It’s to be honest about my bandwidth. This past year has been the first time in my adult life – in my entire life, probably, that my time has truly been my own. And I work to choose depth over diffusion. To let legacy be shaped not by how many places I touch briefly, but by where I stay long enough to build something real.
So I’m sitting with the question: Where am I meant to go deep right now? And what might I lovingly release—not because it isn’t worthy, but because I’m human?
Maybe that’s the real work. Not expanding endlessly, but expanding my vision while refining my presence.
What about you?

Fondly,

Kari

My nightstand — minus the books on my kindle and on Audible.