on stress and its value

The thing about getting older that no one really prepares you for--or perhaps they do, but you don’t really get it until you’re knee-deep-in-the-muck-of-it--is that stress is often such that you peel back one layer only to find another below it. And then another after that. And on and on in slow succession, ad infinitum.

It sounds torturous, doesn’t it?

But that’s the thing. It’s not, entirely.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, it is occasionally tremendously uncomfortable. But, the older I get the more sure I am that part of our job, as human beings, is to sit in--or with--that discomfort.

And stress, well stress can be quite valuable. Because it helps determine what is worth that very particular discomfort, and what isn’t.

And some things really aren’t.

I spent the last year and half trekking just a little bit east of Fifth Avenue each morning. And each morning I felt my body brace with a sort of ambiguous, amorphous fear. And that fear--that stress--well, there wasn’t a damn thing valuable about it; it didn’t fortify me, it didn’t make me better, it was simply to be survived. And while there was some value in passing the time, there was a heck of a lot more in leaving. And leave I did, hard and stressful as that was. I left because ultimately, I believed in bigger things.

That’s the other thing about getting older that one really prepares you for: the really miraculous process of figuring out what you believe in. There are things I believe in--strongly, deeply. Beliefs that continuously bring me to my knees. And those beliefs are mostly simple. I believe in kindness. And honesty. I believe in integrity and generosity and transparency. And I believe in the action of those things, carried out on the everyday level.

And, when our beliefs--our values--line up with the continuous unfolding of the stress, well that tremor is transformed into something quite important. Quotidien, but still magic.

Sometimes, for me, sitting down to write is the scariest thing in the world--in fact, I have spent the better part of the last few months doing whatever I can to avoid it. But it is also the most important thing I know to do. It moves my life forward, it makes me better, it is belief made manifest. It is worth every bit of fear and stress and knee-shaking terror. And that is entirely the point. 

Happy International Women's Day!

(way to go Microsoft!!)

want and fear

image source

In singing class at school we had a teacher who said, your want has to be bigger than your fear. 

Mine never was.

Singing in front of people always felt like standing naked at the front of the room. (And this was at a time when the very notion of naked was fraught, to say the least). 

This year has been remarkable, already. Mostly because I have developed a new philosophy: if you're scared, you must do it. If you fear the phone conversation, you must have it. If sending the email is terrifying, then send it. You must write the emails and open the attachments and go on interviews and sit down in front of the white blank screen more times than you can count. You must be as honest and kind as you possibly can, even when it would be easier to walk away, or say nothing at all. Because, the thing is...doing those things, changes things. Doing those things moves your life forward. Doing those things is--and leads to--remarkable.

But it feels important to say, that in doing them now, my want is still not greater than my fear, but my determination or grit or well, whatever you want to call it has finally arrived to the party. My fear is large, my lack of courage abounds, but I'll be damned if those things keep my life small. So now I do the thing that scares me most, and I feel the fear the whole damn time, and I simply keep going. 

Because I don't think your want does have to be larger than your fear. It's just that, part of growing up means, fear is no longer a good enough reason not to do something.  

what I'm listening to // Marcus Mumford & Justin Hayward-Young sing "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright"

words to live by // 2. 22. 16

"If you want to live an authentic, meaningful life, you need to master the art of disappointing and upsetting others, hurting feelings, and living with the reality that some people just won't like you. It may not be easy, but it's essential if you want your life to reflect your deepest desires, values, and needs." | Cheryl Richardson