This morning, I was watching an interview with researcher Martin Picard.
In research by Picard and his colleagues, changes in pigmentation were mapped along individual strands of hair over time. The researchers observed that gray hairs can sometimes regain pigmentation, and in some cases, those changes occurred alongside changes in reported psychological stress.
As I listened, I thought, Oh. I know this.
Not the gray hair part.
What is happening, and how we are experiencing what is happening.
How often do we actually distinguish between the two?
Take a problem.
Plans suddenly change.
A reply you were waiting for never comes.
Something unexpected happens.
And sometimes, several things happen at once.
“This is a disaster. What am I going to do?”
In that moment, it can feel as though there is this thing called the problem, and we have somehow been dropped right into the middle of it.
But: Experiencing something as a problem is not the same as what is actually happening.
Are you kidding me?
I have moments when the running commentary in my head sounds something like:
“You have GOT to be kidding me.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Practicing Somatic Clarity does not mean moments like these stop happening.
If anything, I observe them too.
Wow. I am really angry.
Sometimes I notice something more specific.
Ah. I feel like I’m being taken advantage of.
Whether someone is actually taking advantage of me is not the question at this point.
I am not investigating their intentions.
I am looking at what I am experiencing.
And when I am this angry, I don’t necessarily think of myself as “not being calm.”
If something feels this unacceptable to me, then a strong reaction makes sense.
It is within the range of what I would expect.
But that does not mean I act on the momentum of that reaction.
Being angry and letting anger decide what I do next are not the same thing.
Start with what is already here
I am not trying to tell myself:
“You shouldn’t be this angry.”
Nor am I trying to become more understanding:
“Well, they probably have their reasons.”
And I am not trying to get the anger out of my system as quickly as possible so I can feel better.
If I want to get to what lies beyond it, I start with what is already here.
If what is here is Oh, for fuck’s sake, then that is where I start.
What, exactly, am I so angry about?
What feels so unacceptable?
Is it that my plans changed?
That something is outside my control?
That I feel I might lose something?
That I feel a boundary has been crossed?
Instead of leaving “stress” as one enormous mass, I keep bringing it into focus.
And sometimes, out of:
I hate all of this.
something more precise begins to emerge:
the place I am actually reacting to.
The “problem” and what is happening
We often think:
Something happened.
Therefore, I am stressed.
Of course, things do happen outside us.
If your flight has been canceled, your flight has been canceled.
You may not reach your destination that day.
You may need somewhere to stay.
You may need to change your plans for tomorrow.
No change in perspective makes those facts disappear.
But:
“This is terrible. What am I going to do? Everything is ruined.”
and:
“My flight has been canceled. I need to check the next available flight.”
are not descriptions of the same thing.
This is not another way of saying:
“It’s all about how you look at it.”
Some situations genuinely require action.
Some are dangerous.
Some are situations you should leave.
Sometimes the appropriate response is NO.
In fact, distinguishing what is happening from how you are experiencing it can make it easier to see:
what actually needs your attention.
If this happens, I’ll do this
Once I can see more clearly what I am reacting to, I start considering my choices.
If this happens, I’ll do this.
If that happens, I’ll do that.
I’ll go this far.
Beyond this point, I won’t.
If things reach that point, I’ll choose something else.
The problem itself may not be resolved yet.
The situation may not have changed.
If another person is involved, they may not have changed either.
Still: I can decide what I will do.
Something that, a moment ago, felt large enough to swallow everything begins to regain its actual proportions.
Under these conditions, I’ll do this.
Up to this point, I’ll do that.
No more. No less.
And my life begins to feel like mine again.
Getting the steering wheel back
Something funny often happens around this point.
I start finding that earlier running commentary in my head slightly amusing.
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
Wow. I was angry.
The anger has not necessarily disappeared.
I have not suddenly decided I like the other person.
The problem may not be solved.
It is simply no longer driving my life.
I am back in a place where I can choose what I do next.
For me, perhaps this is what “becoming calm” actually means.
Not becoming quiet.
I can still be angry.
I can still think, Are you fucking kidding me?
But I can see what is happening, and I can choose my next move for myself.
Once I get there, sometimes there is even enough room to laugh.
What is happening, and what you are experiencing
When you feel stressed, you do not have to correct yourself:
“I shouldn’t be stressed about this.”
Nor do you have to rename the situation:
“This isn’t stressful.”
First: I am experiencing this as stressful.
That can remain exactly as it is.
If where you are is Are you kidding me?, start there.
And then look again.
What is actually happening?
What am I reacting to?
What do I need?
How far am I willing to go?
At what point would I choose something else?
What is happening and how we experience what is happening are not the same thing.
Separating the two does not guarantee that the problem will disappear.
It does not guarantee that the stress will disappear either.
But sometimes: the steering wheel that the “problem” seemed to be holding finds its way back into your hands.
And then the problem is no longer your whole life.
It is simply something that needs to be dealt with, here and now.
The Compass: 16 Coordinates for Inner Navigation — now available.
