I have a confession to make. I am a chronic worrier. Stress is like turbulent waves that crash against my shore, eroding and battering. Now, this isn’t constant, but when a storm comes, watch out. My heart rate jumps. My stomach churns. And my ability to make clearheaded decisions falls apart like wet cake. As a coach, I work with people routinely who suffer from similar reactions to stressful stimuli. Does this make me more or less qualified to help? I’d like to think more. However, as an asterisk I want to be clear that this is what works for me. I won’t make any broad claims of having the answer. To each their own, but here’s mine.
Mark Twain once wrote, "Worrying is like paying a debt you don't owe." And Benjamin Franklin a few decades earlier had written, "The greatest miseries of mankind are attributed to the false estimates we've placed on the value of things."
When feeling stressed and out of control, pause for a moment, take some deep breaths, close your eyes (unless you're driving), and consider your perspective. Think of the numerous times you've worried and it turned out to be unnecessary, even detrimental. In the present, we place an incredible (and false) value on what is happening and, as a result, can devote an unhealthy amount of time and energy toward it (like paying a debt you don’t owe).
So, let’s not pay debts we don’t owe or place false estimates on the value of what we’re facing. Whereas normally mindfulness is about grounding oneself in the present, these situations require us to get a 30,000 foot view of the present for perspective. Consider past situations in which you were stressed and ask yourself how much was it worth. Not much, if anything, I would hazard to guess. Now, consider yourself a week from now, a month from now, a year or even toward the end of your life…can you even remember this moment you’re currently facing? Does it even register in the timeline of your life? Probably not.
In a way, we’re still being mindful in the present, but with a refreshed perspective of it. For me, stress and worry require a step outside of the moment looking inward because it’s so easy for the moment to feel momentous. But with the gift of perspective, one that is – as far as we can tell – distinctly human, we can better treat the moment for what it is.
It isn’t the death of an entire tree, but rather the falling of a single autumnal leaf.
Mark Twain once wrote, "Worrying is like paying a debt you don't owe." And Benjamin Franklin a few decades earlier had written, "The greatest miseries of mankind are attributed to the false estimates we've placed on the value of things."
When feeling stressed and out of control, pause for a moment, take some deep breaths, close your eyes (unless you're driving), and consider your perspective. Think of the numerous times you've worried and it turned out to be unnecessary, even detrimental. In the present, we place an incredible (and false) value on what is happening and, as a result, can devote an unhealthy amount of time and energy toward it (like paying a debt you don’t owe).
So, let’s not pay debts we don’t owe or place false estimates on the value of what we’re facing. Whereas normally mindfulness is about grounding oneself in the present, these situations require us to get a 30,000 foot view of the present for perspective. Consider past situations in which you were stressed and ask yourself how much was it worth. Not much, if anything, I would hazard to guess. Now, consider yourself a week from now, a month from now, a year or even toward the end of your life…can you even remember this moment you’re currently facing? Does it even register in the timeline of your life? Probably not.
In a way, we’re still being mindful in the present, but with a refreshed perspective of it. For me, stress and worry require a step outside of the moment looking inward because it’s so easy for the moment to feel momentous. But with the gift of perspective, one that is – as far as we can tell – distinctly human, we can better treat the moment for what it is.
It isn’t the death of an entire tree, but rather the falling of a single autumnal leaf.
