The spoon theory and a phone named Orlando

This post was inspired by a theory I really like: the Spoon Theory. It was created by Christine Miserandino in her powerful essay The Spoon Theory, where she uses a handful of spoons to describe the daily energy budgeting required when living with a chronic illness.

While the metaphor comes from, and remains deeply meaningful within, the chronic illness community, I’m using it here as a lens for my own reflections on how we manage and mismanage energy. It’s also a metaphor that has resonated widely within neurodivergent communities.

Miserandino used spoons to illustrate her finite energy: she talks about having twelve. Each spoon represents a unit of capacity. Every task, decision, conversation, or unexpected plot twist uses one or several spoons, depending on the energy they demand on that particular day. When they’re gone… they’re gone. No amount of guilt, caffeine, or positive self-talk magically conjures extra spoons.

The theory highlights the need to check in with ourselves and adjust the day to match the spoons available. One day we might need one spoon to get out of bed; another day it might take three — leaving nine to tend to everything else. I find it a simple yet powerful way to describe capacity and how it shifts depending on so many factors: health, life stages, stress, emotional load, and more.

What the spoon theory can remind us is that we don’t have infinite energy, and that some people experience its limits even more intensely, frequently, or unpredictably than others.

Of course, I’m not ignorant of the fact that we’re living in a time and society where productivity-at-all-costs often feels like the expected default — and this doesn’t exactly leave anyone feeling replenished. But what I love about this theory is the way it highlights the importance of acknowledging our fluctuating capacity not as optional luxuries but as fundamental parts of wellbeing — and really, of our humanness.

Think now about your phone. Imagine this phone is named Orlando and Orlando is sitting at 5% battery. Let’s imagine that instead of putting it on charge, you start talking to them like this:

“Listen Orlando, I appreciate you so much, and I really value your hard work. But I need you to stay on for at least another hour or two. There are emails to send, messages to reply to, videos to watch. So please. Try harder.”

HA! It sounds absurd, doesn’t it?

You can’t persuade a phone to have more charge. You can’t reason it into 30% battery. Orlando doesn’t care, nor does he negotiate

.

And yet… we do this to ourselves all the time.

We feel the signals — our “5%” — and instead of recharging, we try to talk ourselves out of our own tiredness. Just push through. I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Everyone else is fine. I should be able to manage.

The last few weeks were quite tiring for me. But I thought, I’ll just write a new blog post anyway. Except my energy was very low. And as much as I wanted to push through, I chose to manage my spoons in a way that honoured what mattered most to me.

Did my inner “shoulds” throw a tantrum?Absolutely.

Did they mumble something about “but you’re on such a good streak posting”? Of course they did.

But they eventually quietened down. And you know what? The sky didn’t fall. And I had more time to rest and feel ok again.

So here’s a question:

What’s something you did recently to honour your energy level — even when the world, your inbox, or your inner critic told you to push through?

Your story might be exactly what someone else needs to be inspired to give their inner Orlando a niiiiice break.