Sharing some of my coping techniques for when life feels hard
A warm hug and a gentle shout out to anyone sensitive to what's going on in the world and feeling that bubble up in their personal lives, including in their relationship with food and body. I wanted to share a few of the tools I use in my own life to work with the inevitable disheartenment that sometimes arises.
1. Move in a way that connects me with my child-self - I was a pool rat; I even swam for a team called "the green flies" because the pool was next to the town dump. You can't make this sh*t up. To this day my body feels childlike in the water. And swimming laps, pushing through the water, even occasionally snorting or swallowing the water makes me smile. I find myself slowing down, focusing on the sensory experience of being in the water, noticing what my body is capable of. And getting my heart rate up even a little discharges some of the sympathetic energy that otherwise can make me feel amped up and scared. Even the initial - and sometimes shocking - plunge feels valuable - it's ok to do difficult things, especially when they give me access to something that I enjoy.
2. Eat something significant and satisfying - Today it was a bagel with whitefish salad. I am a Long Island girl at heart (picture me singing Piano Man into a bottle of AquaNet) and nothing satisfies like this combination. Again, it connects with something simultaneously old and young inside me. It hits the spot in a unique way. And the chewiness probably helps with that sympathetic energy as well. I followed this up with an oatmeal chocolate chip cookies baked my mom. Perfection. And so comforting.
3. Let it out - I sing at the top of my lungs (see #2), talk to friends (I don't have many hobbies and I've decided - with the help of a friend - that it's because the time and effort I invest in my friendships subsumes that need for the most part), and ask people specifically how they work with difficulty. Singing tones the vagus nerve as does chanting, humming, and gargling. Talking helps externalize what might otherwise fester inside, normalizes my experience, and I get to hear how others work with difficulty. It reminds me, too, how important it is to actively work with difficulty. It matters and paying attention to my struggles (even while simultaneously having perspective and gratitude) is a form of self love and care.
4. Awaken my senses - I move furniture around to change the feel of the room, change the sheets to a new color, put on something bright or patterned, pull out a pair of earrings I haven't worn in a while, and look at the world around me. Birds and trees were my focus today - how different birds fly, cluster, sound. How the branches look bare against different lights. This slows me down, reconnects me with my surroundings, and introduces novelty that gets my attention. Reminds me: I am here, right now.
5. Think globally, act locally - remember when we used to say this all the time? It applies in lots of ways. I may not be able to do much for people who have lost loved ones, homes, and normalcy, but I can slow down, look people in the eye, listen deeply, and share a moment with them. I can offer kindness, appreciate how they contribute to the world, acknowledge that we are here together in this moment and I am aware of that. I also take my foot off the gas - literally - let people pass me, cross the street unhurried, catch a break in general. Focusing less on where I've just come from and where I'm going when driving reinforces slowing down. I'm convinced road rage happens because we contain so much unprocessed speed, tension, and distress.
I'm not suggesting you do any or all of these things. Only to consider what might help you work with difficulty in your own life. Perhaps some of these ideas spark something in you and perhaps not. But I'd love to hear some of the ways you work with the inevitable difficulty in life.