Ever injure yourself in a really dumb way? Come on, yes you have. Recent stories I’ve heard from other early-30’s women at my gym: 1. I stepped on a lime and sprained my ankle. 2. I sprained my toe putting on underwear. I mean, this is kind of funny, we joke about getting old and hurting ourselves by like, getting out of bed. But are we really fragile enough that something like that can put us down for the count?
Relatedly: Ever had your day completely ruined by something completely stupid? The restaurant was out of the thing you wanted. Someone forgot your meeting. Someone said something mean. And then suddenly you’re a mess, and you can’t get your mojo back (guilty!). How can we cope with this? How can we be come resilient, to the physical and the emotional?
Resilience: from Merriam-Webster online:
- 1: the capability of a strained body to recover its size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress.
- 2: an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change.
Ok, yeah. This sounds awesome. Sign me up! Advice for cultivating psychological resilience is generally broad— really broad. Keep a positive attitude! Maintian perspective! Practice self-care! Great, Ok, but how to I put this into practice?
It’s THRILLING to accomplish something you weren’t certain you could do. For all the babble out there and instagram quotes about comfort zones and breakthroughs and whatnot, that central truth remains. And to accomplish something you aren’t certain you can do, you have to, well, do something you aren’t sure you can do. For people who are risk-averse creatures of habit, this can be a huge leap— but so, so worth it. There are roller-coaster thrills, and then there are life-changing thrills. On the roller coaster, you know you’re on there for five minutes and everything’s been safety-checked. For the other kind, there’s no net— you don’t know what will happen.
Last weekend, I ran a Ragnar Relay with my sister and a bunch of other lawyers.
If we do not make deliberate choices about the elements of our lives, they will be decided for us by circumstance, chance, and others’ interests.
In Tucson each November, there is an event called the All Souls’ Procession. It’s a relative of the Mexican holiday Dia de los Muertos, but it’s a distinct and unique experience. People come together and walk through the city with floats, puppets, photos, banners. They dance, chant, drum. They paint their faces and wear costumes. There’s a giant urn. There’s a celbratory aspect, but also a solemnity. There’s a shared sense of loss and solidarity. It’s moving and remarkable.
In most of America, anxiety around death is rampant. There are huge silicon valley projects dedicated to promoting longevity. We talk about “not giving up” and “fighting.” We put 85-year-old people with failing organs on ventilators and tube feeds at great expense, both in finances and in human suffering. We use euphamisms like “passed on”. We generally don’t think and talk about the fact that death is a presupposition of life— the thing that, by oppostion, defines it, and the place that it ends. Life and death are in this way inseperable. It’s a strain on our society, I think, to stick our fingers in our ears and ignore this.
Of course there are people who resist this tendancy to avoid thee idea death. Continue reading