Having What it Takes

There are some truths that are true no matter if life is pretty chill or life is getting Lifey (as the writer Anne Lamott would say). It might be useful to say them here and now as a reminder to myself and to anyone who cares to read.

This first one is a definition of anxiety and resilience that I find immensely useful. Anxiety is “I think I know what’s going to happen (and it’s usually the worst thing I can imagine!) and I don’t think I have what it takes.” Resilience is “I don’t know what’s going to happen (because no one ever does!) but I know I have what it takes.”

Feel the difference in the two in your body as you read that? 

Here’s the thing—I know that “having what it takes to handle it” includes things like having enough money in the bank, food in the pantry and toilet paper under the cabinet. Those things are inarguably real. And, worth mentioning, also largely linked to privilege.

That said, even though “having what it takes to handle it” is necessarily inclusive of all those very real, tangible and potentially privilege-related things, it is also bigger than that. Having what it takes is also a sense that you’ll be there for yourself no matter what. Even if all those things like a job and a bank account or a way of life go away, you’ll still be you.

That kind of having what it takes comes from being able to stay with yourself.

Believe me, I know that it seems flimsy when considered in the face of, say, a pandemic, and easily dismissed after you read it in a sentence. But the felt experience of staying with yourself is anything but flimsy. Before I share one practice for staying with yourself, let me say that being able to stay with yourself is not something that just happens over night. 

But practicing staying with yourself IS.

So let me (gently) suggest that you relieve any pressure you may unwittingly put on yourself to be suddenly good at this, and instead align yourself with an earnestness in simply trying.

Ok, so here’s the practice. 

Check in with the sensations you feel in your body, and get curious about what those sensations tell you about what’s true for you in this moment.

Maybe it’s, “I’m anxious.” 

Maybe it’s, “I feel trapped.”

Maybe it’s, “I’m delighted to not have to leave my house.”

Maybe it’s, “I just want my kids to go away.”

Maybe it’s, “I feel moved.”

You get the point: it can be anything. There’s no right answer. It’s what’s true for you. Even (especially) if it’s not something you’d share with anyone else.

Whatever it is, practice saying it to yourself, out loud or in your head. Just let yourself say it and hear yourself saying it.

Now see what happens. Typically there’s a moment where something that may have felt bound loosens up. Or something that may have felt urgent feels less so. Or something that may have felt pleasant isn’t so under the radar.

After all the countless times I’ve practiced this myself and been with people as they practice it, the conclusion I’ve come to is that shift happens because our own presence matters to us. Our acknowledgment of our experience not only means something, it soothes something in us; we just don’t offer it to ourselves enough to know that or trust it.

So here’s my encouragement to you: give this to yourself a handful of times a day. Take 10 seconds to ask yourself what’s true for you and then say it to yourself. 

In the event it doesn’t make anything better or different in a felt way, then at least know that you’re establishing a pattern that has some basic merit in it—the pattern of looking to yourself for a moment of connection. And since we find ourselves in a daily world where there’s less opportunities to turn away from ourselves in the ways we’re habituated to, why not give turning towards ourselves a shot?

Want to be better at staying with yourself no matter this situation? Check out Yours Truly.