What did we stress about before?
A trip for a recent holiday turned into an unexpected (but in retrospect predictable?) family crisis. Covid-related, of course. My vibrant (and older) parents stuck sick and out of my reach; my nuclear family splintered by quarantine rules. The weight of two years of unsurpassed strangeness and uncertainty felt crushing.
In a text thread with a friend, the (what felt truly immense) stress of it all led me to wonder: What did we stress about before?
While the pandemic was nothing more than a pile-on for many communities already struggling with a lack of access to healthcare, healthy working conditions, and daily concerns for safety, an aspect that feels unifying about the pandemic is the blanket of uncertainty with which it cloaked the world.
What is stress? Coined in the 1930s: the response of the body to any demand for change. Later, the physician who named it refined the definition: the rate of wear and tear on the human body. Not just regular everyday usage, but the rate — the speed, the intensity of that usage. How our brains reacted to what was going on around us, interpreting some things as out of the ordinary, worthy of panic. For sure, the pandemic didn’t invent stress — it is a human condition that existed long before and will continue in perpetuity. It did, however, prompt me to consider a new, or at least more clarified approach to managing my own stress.
I’m not sure exactly when I started saying it, but since early in the pandemic it’s been a constant refrain: “Girls, life will have ups and downs, changes that you can and can’t control. And when those moments occur, go back to the things that ground you — remind yourselves of what’s really important to you.” Then they’ll respond in a dragged out sing-songy voice: “We know, Mommy. Community. Nature. Exercise.” (Sounds something like: “We knooooooow, Mommy. Commmmmmmmunity. Naaaaaature. Exxxxxxercise.”)
They are right. Those are my three things: community, nature, and exercise. They are significant mood-boosters when I’m having a tough day. They center me. They provide a reset. They are grounded in simplicity and remind me of what actually matters.
Nature offers an unmatched release. Doesn’t matter if it’s a mountain range or a tiny green park in the middle of a city, nature takes us out of the moment, into a different space. The speed of grass (or trees!) growing, the rush of wind or water, the cathedral-sized quiet. What are our daily worries, in the face of nature? Admire the world for never ending on you, as Annie Dillard used to say.
Community is people, people, people. Friends who listen, siblings who have your back, parents who provide wisdom. Even total strangers: their stories, their lives, have such truths to tell. We gain perspective by realizing we’re not alone, we’re not weird or unusual, we’re only human.
And finally, exercise. If stress overworks the body, exercise works it the right way. We strengthen our heart and lungs, circular and nervous systems, the very muscles that keep us standing upright and moving forward. It’s sometimes hard, not always fun, but somehow always feels like exactly what I needed. And when it’s hard, fun, and exactly what I needed at same time: jackpot.
Maybe my little triumvirate is a way to build up immunity to stress, to de-fang it, take away its power to overwhelm us. I’ve found it to be my surest strength even against the stress of these days. Maybe though, life (and stress) has always been like this. Every generation has its own trials, forces outside our control. The world is constantly in upheaval, and humanity is constantly adjusting. So I think I’m planning to just settle in and lean in hard on my three things.
As we crest 2022, a new year of opportunity, of hope, and inevitably of some setbacks and stress, I’m wishing you joy and fun on the good days, fortitude on the tough days, and the gift of really knowing what grounds you on the days when you need it most.