I had a dream the other night – a nightmare really – in which I was in high school and realized just a week before the final that I hadn’t cracked the textbook. It’s a recurring dream of sorts, another version where I forget to drop a class and, to graduate I must pass the final for a class I never attended. Or, 15 years later, the University contacts me, realizing the credits of said class were inadvertently included in my transcript, meaning I hadn’t finished college and, therefore, my degrees and, consequently, counseling license are revoked! When I have this type of dream every couple years, I awaken relieved to be where I am (in this case, 36 with two kids, degrees and license intact). Yes, age spots are emerging and days with kiddos are long, but at least I never again have to prep for a final. (Perhaps we should study dream implantation as a mid-life crisis cure.)
I always find it a little peculiar that all these years later, my school related panic dreams still occur. (There’s probably some dark Jungian root to this and embarrassment should prevent me from posting, but I don’t know it, so here goes). The simple pattern I’ve noticed is that these dreams pop up when I have a lot on my plate or I’m obsessing about some upcoming event… when I‘m juggling too many balls and wondering if I’m “skilled” enough to keep them all in the air. As a result, I regress to my old Type A ways, desperately carving time into my schedule for every errand and repeatedly checking my to do lists to make sure nothing’s missed, all to ensure success in whatever it is that I’m planning.
I think it’s driven partially by that old saying “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.” Or that “helpful” motherly twist (and no, my Mom never said it – thanks Sue) to always wear clean underwear in case you die that day (totally morbid advice for a child, and totally irrelevant, given we know what usually happens to underwear when an accident’s involved - gross). I guess the threat of embarrassment over post-mortem dirty underwear was meant to inspire hygiene. Who knows?! I digress…
Other than things like saving for a rainy day and studying for final exams, preparing for the worst is really the opposite of helpful. First of all, the little stuff doesn’t matter nearly as much as the power we give it. Life will go on even if I don’t accomplish half of my list. As for the big stuff, when relationships end, people die, health problems arise, accidents happen, jobs are lost and disappointments occur, pain is inevitable, no matter how prepared we are.
Our brains are wired to help us survive threat, and in caveman times, centuries old times, and even some cultures now, anticipation was/is extremely important. If you weren’t planning for your next meal or carrying a spear, you might not survive the day. But today, our reptilian brains try to apply their protective instincts to the emotional realm, anxiously anticipating the next threat. With help from our highly evolved cognitive thinking, we delude ourselves into believing that preparing for the worst will protect us from pain.
I was talking with a client the other day who spoke with tear filled eyes about her relationship ending, wondering what she could’ve done to avoid the pain and what she can do next time (other than becoming a nun). The next day, I met with two different women struggling with infertility who had either just had or were planning their last rounds of in vitro. Both were struggling with that “hope for the best, prepare for the worst” thing, trying to decide now what to do if they find out in the next month that the pregnancy doesn’t take. With relief, helplessness and hurt, all three women listened as I delivered the truth that we all hate to hear, that there is no way to make a decision based on anticipated feelings or to adequately prepare so that we avoid pain. We can’t grieve or move forward until those feelings are present. More importantly, the energy it takes to predict and prepare is wasted energy we could spend on something else.
So why do we worry? Simply put, it feels productive and powerful. It distracts us from the feeling of helplessness. That’s good, right? NO (unless your fallback “coping” strategy is meth or some equally destructive escape)! While distracting us from helplessness, worry over what’s out of our control also burns us out, emotionally and physically. The cortisol involved overworks our adrenals and is linked to all kinds of medical issues. More importantly, worry distracts us from being present in our current lives. When I’m rechecking my to do list in my head, I’m distracted from life: from my kids, my husband, my friends, and the simple daily experiences that bring joy.
If it’s not worry, most of us find some other method to gain a sense of control. One strategy: minimal investment. In relationships, for example, we go through the motions or refuse to get close. That way, if it ends, we can either assume power for the ending by saying “I wasn’t that into it” or we just never get close enough to really feel the loss. Another strategy: compulsivity. Maybe we exercise and diet so much that it keeps us from living – we can’t miss a workout or eat a piece of cake. We tell ourselves it will guarantee our health and longevity, but there’s no guarantee. Haven’t we all known of a super-fit person who drops dead of an aneurism? A third approach: giving up. We throw in the towel entirely and think, “Why bother doing anything because bad things happen to good people… If I don’t go for it, I haven’t failed… If I might get cancer tomorrow, I may as well do some hard living now.” In each case, we’re trying to gain control by acting in ways that give our minds a sense of preparing for the worst.
Unfortunately, we can’t anticipate, minimally invest, compulse or give-in to avoid pain. All of these approaches leave us uncertain, exhausted, stressed, lonely, worthless, hopeless and yes, still without control. The truth is that life hurts, relationships end, people get sick, jobs are lost and tragedies happen.
(Pause for a deep breath, that paragraph was heavy.)
The silver lining is this: while it hurts like hell, we grow from pain in a way that diligent therapy alone can’t inspire. In embracing this reality, we find our capacity. With each painful recovery, we learn we can tolerate whatever comes next. Interestingly, the same brain mechanism that is inappropriately vigilant at times also helps us tolerate pain we never knew we could handle (if we haven’t taxed it too heavily). The control we have is in redirecting ourselves to the present, so when bad things happen, we have the strength and motivation to get through them. As people learn time and time again, while it’s scary to let go of attempts to control, the resulting freedom is amazing (if you don’t believe me, try it, and prove me wrong).
So, what to hold on to? Well, really the point is to stop gripping so tightly. If we neither cling to nor push away people/stuff/outcomes, we enjoy the present gifts and grieve them appropriately when they go. It doesn’t protect us from the inevitable pain of loss, but it does invite joy right now. Today, it was walking down the street in the rain (no umbrella for us Oregonians), knowing I have a huge to do list, and instead of racing back to the office, letting go long enough to get wet, breathe the fresh air and enjoy the deliciousness of a Stumptown cappuccino.
Time and time again I have the privilege of witnessing the truth behind the clichés (and no I’d never say them to someone in the middle of grief - that's like throwing salt in the wounds). Yes, time heals, and yes, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, so stop worrying and start living. Change the things you can, accept the things you can’t, and be wise enough to know the difference. Moderately exercise, eat healthy and take care of yourself, not because of what you get later but because it enhances your life right now. Embrace your relationships and passions. Just do it! If you don’t fail at something, you’re not trying hard enough. Nothing is guaranteed. Nothing lasts forever. Stop preparing for life’s next big test and enjoy its many interesting lectures.
Related Reading: When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chodron.
The Miracle of Mindfulness. Thich Nhat Hanh.
Or add Buddha Groove to your FB feed for regular inspiration.
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