Why does this feel so relatable? Scene from Labyrinth (1986).
By Dear Chizuko (Becky Hollingsworth) 15 May 2025
I am feeling so incredibly overwhelmed right now.
Of course, this feeling is an illusion. It’s me perceiving things as overwhelming. But knowing that doesn’t make it any less stressful.
I have always been a person who is easily overwhelmed. Every time it seems like things are manageable (ahh… my first mistake), a random little task or problem pops up (because… that’s life) and sends me hurtling into the chaos of THIS IS TOO MUCH. Lather, rinse, repeat.
It’s not just that feeling overwhelmed is unpleasant. It has consequences. Simple tasks seem more complex and start piling up. I’ve missed important letters or emails. I get even worse than normal at responding to messages and start ghosting people left and right. All of these lead to more problems and more work piling up, which leads to, you guessed it, more overwhelm.
I needed some direction this week. Some might turn to their bible or deck of tarot cards in this situation. I pressed play on my trusty guidebook, the 1986 film Labyrinth.
Watching Labyrinth is a sacred experience for me. I come to it looking for wisdom or insight, and it always provides an answer. I do this with most movies (looking for even the tiniest relatable bit to find a lesson) but Labyrinth is most reliable when I’m searching for something specific.
With the theme of overwhelm in mind, I once again watched Jennifer Connelly’s Sarah whine about unfairness, David Bowie’s Jareth prance around menacingly in ridiculously tight pants and a codpiece, and a variety of incredible puppet characters (designed through a collaboration between Brian Froud and Jim Henson) either helping or hindering Sarah’s journey.
I found that the whole film can be viewed as an allegory for overwhelm, because it portrays Sarah’s journey from childhood to adulthood… and what’s more overwhelming than adulting?
As the film begins we are introduced to Sarah, indignant at having to babysit her infant half-brother Toby. She wishes aloud that the goblins (from the book, The Labyrinth, that she had just been cosplaying in the park) would come and take him away. The Goblin King, Jareth, flies into the window, turns from an owl into David Bowie, and grants her wish, though she immediately takes back her request. He takes Toby anyway, giving Sarah thirteen hours to find her way to the castle at the center of the labyrinth to save him from being turned into a goblin.
Trying to avoid work that has to be done seems like a way to deal with overwhelm, but it is actually a surefire way to make more work for yourself. The plot of Labyrinth is a perfect example of that.
“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered,” Sarah faces a colorful cast of fantastical creatures during her journey through the labyrinth, as well as many challenging obstacles. However, like me whenever I start to feel I’ve conquered my overwhelm, Sarah repeatedly thinks she has things all figured out. And, of course, that’s when a new, more complicated challenge presents itself. Every time.
The scenario I find most relatable in relation to overwhelm is the Junk Lady, because I fear this may be me. As someone who has struggled with the overwhelming problem of clutter my whole life, finding the balance between collectibles and junk seems like one of my eternal conflicts. I have made improvements over the years, but it has been a struggle to let things go, especially nostalgic or sentimental items. The clutter in my home resembles the Junk Lady’s back, a visual depiction of the way overwhelm feels for me.
Side note — why is there such a huge junk yard outside of the Goblin City? One would think that if Jareth can turn babies into goblins, he could turn trash into something useful. Scene from Labyrinth (1986).
One of my favorite teachings from the move ties together the very first line and the moment when Sara saves her little brother. At the beginning of the film, Sara is reciting a passage from The Labyrinth, but struggles to recall the final line, “You have no power over me.” Every time I hear this, it highlights not only that Sarah already knows exactly how to win, but she is also aware of her weakness. “I can never remember that line,” she mumbles, meaning the line that ultimately defeats the Goblin King. Solving the labyrinth and saving her little brother helps her believe that she really has that power, but it was knowledge and power that she had inside her all along.
This is a reminder that we most likely already hold the solution to our problems within ourselves. Of course, this doesn’t apply so much to larger systemic problems, but for personal issues, I think it’s a good reminder that our brains sometimes lie to us — and that we are more powerful than we think. We may already have the solution, sometimes it just takes a journey through the labyrinth to find it, and to find ourselves.