pressure Archives - Julianne Harvey

How we handle stress reveals us on a primal level. We have nowhere to hide when the pressure builds. Do we blow up, retreat, soothe with food, shopping, alcohol or sex, or do we face it head on with grace and calm?

Very few of us do the latter, but it’s a new goal for me. I know that the time to prepare for stress is when the seas are still, not wild with uncertainty. We prepare for hardship in the peaceful times, by developing skills that will see us through the bumps that are sure to come in the future.

Confidence is always an inside game. We are sunk if we hinge our self esteem on any outward achievement or praise, for these are fickle and will certainly fade. Our surest hedge against internal or external disaster is to stoke the fires of our belief in ourselves on a regular basis. Waiting until the stress arrives means we are too late.

I’ve been living this out lately, after a turbulent period of suffering. Those old demons that hunch on my shoulder and plague me with taunts of being less-than, not good enough and worthless have finally quieted down. I simply waited them out and in time they got bored and went on to irritate someone else.

Half of this life is just outlasting what tries to defeat us. It’s important to stay busy with other pursuits to minimize the dark forces working to pull us under.

I’m loving this season of internal calm. It’s that dewy, clean feeling after a hard rain. It’s less a triumph than a relief that this particular storm has ended and patches of blue sky are visible once again.

All I know is that it helps to do our internal work each and every day, especially when we see no obvious evidence of it. If we stay faithful to our soul, when the tough times mysteriously end we will see the benefits of this devoted attention.

If you are hurting right now, with no clear answers or insights, simply stay the course. Nourish yourself with the gentle sustaining routines. Wash your face, apply sunscreen, listen to happy music, drink water, eat your vegetables (and also chocolate). Pain doesn’t last forever. Neither does self-doubt, fear and worry. One day, you’ll wake up and feel contented, hopeful, a little bit more secure in your own brave identity.

You are likely doing better than you think you are. I say this to myself as a mantra when all seems lost. Life can be rough with many mountains to climb, but we can do it if we pack the right gear and we train for the trail so we are prepared.

Gentleness and courage are suitable bedfellows for the calm times and the terrifying ones. One day, in the very near future, you will experience a personal breakthrough. You’ll feel different, you’ll see the world in a new way, and all of that constancy in the darkness will get you to that unforeseen moment of light.

Do you ever have one of those times when your reaction is nuts compared to the situation? I’m learning to pay attention to these over-reactions, for my soul is trying to tell me something that I might otherwise ignore or drown out.

Last week I was doing laundry and my dusting cloth fell in the small gap between the washer and the wall. I felt unreasonably frustrated by this tiny mishap. It was as if my psychic house of cards started to wobble and something deep inside of me recognized that I was in serious danger of losing control. I grabbed my daughter’s onesie pajamas and tried several times to cram them in the space and slowly pull them forward to drag the dusting cloth to where I could reach it before the washer drum finished filling.

Nothing. The damn cloth didn’t budge. I leaned awkwardly across the washer, refusing to quit on this rag, but when I sat up sharply I hit my head on the plastic container that holds grocery bags. All hell broke loose. It hurt like a mother and an overwhelming rage bubbled up and spilled out of me. My poor cats fled in the onslaught of such blue language. There I was, hopping around in my laundry room, rubbing my sore head and cussing the world and everyone in it.

I yelled. I swore. I bawled. I finally allowed my anger to have its way; to blow through me like a violent storm.

It had everything and nothing to do with the dusting cloth. This grief was a volcano, simmering safely until the internal temperature is finally too high and now the only option left is to explode. When we run from our feelings they find a way to get our attention. They bring us to our knees.

The pressure builds in us and then demands a release. I felt intense relief at the end of my tantrum (mixed in with gratitude that I was alone in the house except for my two surprised cats). I desperately needed to admit that I was not fine. I was hurting, engaging with my own despised human frailty; afraid, alone, angry as hell. It took a hard bump on the head to bring it all up and out so I could finally let go of it.

We can only control so much. Sometimes we reach the end of our desperate agenda. A “T” forms in our path and we must either hang on or let go. Getting honest about this is the first step, even if this looks like swearing and screeching in your basement. Especially then. It’s never easy to admit that it’s not all about you. As Rob Bell says, “There is something else going on here.”

I’m grateful for that dropped cloth and the subsequent bump on the head. When I calmed down I could sense that I was different in some hard-to-define but nonetheless true way. With a flash of insight, I saw that the broom handle would be the solution for my cloth. In two seconds, it was retrieved and placed in the washer, just in the nick of time.

Most of life is like this, provided we don’t catastrophize into the future. Staying in the present helps us find our solution and remain connected to our true selves so we can figure out what it is we actually need.

Showing all posts tagged pressure

Stay the Course

How the Soul Speaks