My friend Hattie corrected me once when I complained that I was stressed out about overextending myself. “Honey,” he scolded softly, “don’t say that. It’s negative. Just admit that life is upon you.”
So it was last week. I witnessed things like never before professionally. Many of its events were historically unprecedented. I sat at my kitchen table early Saturday morning with a piping hot cup of coffee, staring into space, needing the time to just sit and drink in silence. It was my plain kitchen table that served as the buffer for the past five bumpy days.
We all need coping mechanisms for when life presents itself to us. Whether it’s a health problem or a horrible diagnosis, the loss of a job or the loss of a spouse, a wayward child or a sick elderly parent, when life gets tough, we have to fix things. My strategies:
Sunrise exercise. My morning swims keep me sane. Long and private, wonderfully monotonous in the repetitive movements of a swimmer’s stroke, they free my mind to focus on the task or problem at hand. I solve most of the pressing dilemmas of life in the pool. Most of my articles and books are composed while swimming, sorting everything in the water, and just writing my thoughts on my laptop later.
Protein for breakfast. Two hard-boiled eggs are one of the simplest remedies in life. With a little salt and pepper. Get that protein and get it now. You can have emergency dark chocolate a couple of hours later.
Water and coffee during the day. Drink organic. As much as necessary. With some real cream. Sugarfree. Without chemicals. No diet sodas. No soft drinks. Just the real stuff. (It puts hair on your chest).
Radio during your trip. And during the day. Nov. (Save it for before bed.) And lint free. (Just give us the facts, please).
Wear high heels and your favorite clothes. You will walk higher. And feel better.
Get a mani-pedi before the tough weeks. In cheerful colors. Bright pink is usually sufficient.
Take care of your hair. Add more highlights. (Don’t ask me why. Platinum just works).
Walk down the stairs or around the block. Going up a couple of flights instead of taking the elevator will give you the midday rush of oxygen your brain needs, as well as five minutes of thinking time.
Keep a cool head. Realizing that you can only do the best you can will go a long way toward framing your anxiety. You cannot control the world; it’s going to spin well beyond your reach. You can only control how you respond to events. Calm, cool and collected are usually the passwords here.
Employ a diligent work ethic. The time spent in the water cooler is the time spent away from the task at hand. Plan your work and (faithfully and cheerfully) work your plan.
Keep your calendar. Keep your appointments, discarding only the optional ones and keeping all the others. The world will continue to rotate on its axis. People need to see you. And you to them.
Sleep a little. Even when I wake up in the middle of the night, tempted to check email and play the news, I force myself to go back to sleep, knowing that I need physical reinforcement.
Pray. And let others pray for you. As they say, there are no atheists in the trenches. One of my clients told me that she wakes up at three in the morning and prays for me; another prayed with me over the phone on Friday, when life was especially hard for me.
Take the weekends. Do all the things that make your home run smoothly. How to wash clothes. I visited the shoemaker with a pair of shoes that needed attention; the flooring contractor to return unused lumber; the grocer to stock up both from the pantry and the refrigerator. As much as my brain told me to bring my body into my study to immerse myself in my new book project, my mind still hadn’t caught up with the past week. He needed a quiet moment. And I allowed my driving time running errands to be just that. No radio. Without ipod. Just me and my mind and the beautiful Connecticut countryside. It is time to reflect on the fragility of life.
Go only when necessary. Stay here. I skipped a concert I was supposed to go to on Saturday night. He couldn’t deal with people or crowds. I cooked dinner for myself and my husband and loved cuddling up inside my own home. I called our kids who are in college and they enjoyed hearing their voices more than ever.
Today I enjoyed my family and my church. I taught my three-year-olds in the cherub choir. I watched my son play soccer. I spent some time outdoors.
Shakespeare said that life contains more tragedy than comedy. Whether that is true or not, we will never know. But we know for sure that life has both. And it requires, from each one of us, mechanisms to face life.
As you witnessed the story last week when life came to you to one degree or another, I hope you handled it with kindness. And I pray that you stay connected and share your lessons with those you love the most.