"It's come to this," Kim said to us. Besides her voice, you could also here muffled sobs in the background and Encarni typing furiously to book seventeen new tickets to get us out of Spain in time. Kim, the program director, took a deep breathe. "It's our worst nightmare."
There were silent nods of agreement but for some reason, all I could think of was this meme.
Isn't it strange how someone's nightmare is somebody else's dream? We were safe, we were healthy, and we were together… meanwhile, people were burying loved ones, families were being separated by abruptly closed borders and the grandmas at the Alzheimer's center where my host mom worked were asking why no one was allowed to kiss them anymore. But our situation was "a nightmare."
The night before, one of us had to be transported to the emergency room due to a suspiciously high fever and respiratory distress. She was isolated, and had to stay that way until her tests came back negative. We were happy that she didn't have the virus, of course, but only for one second - because we couldn't forget that we were in our worst nightmare.
We managed to book everybody tickets back home - even I, a non US-citizen - was going to get to go back to the U.S before they closed the borders because I miraculously managed to buy the last ticket on the last plane to New York before midnight. We were glad, but still, we were in our worst nightmare.
We were going home to be safe with our families after a month of travelling, learning, eating delicious food, meeting new Spanish friends, having the privilege of knowing a new culture. ]
I couldn't help but think of it as a dream - as the biggest privilege. The support I had, the love I had received, the experiences I had been able to share. If it was a nightmare, I was grateful.
There's a Spanish phrase my friend used to say: "ahogarse en un vaso de agua." which literally translates to "drowning in a cup of water." She would say it about herself sometimes to mean that things probably weren't as bad as she saw them in her head.
This isn't to say some people's problems are insignificant or even to say that some are bigger than others. It's to say that perspective does change everything. And like I wrote in last week's blog post, it doesn't matter if you're drowning in a cup or in the middle of the pacific - to you, you're still drowning. And your fear and anxiety is valid. Gaining some perspective really helps me, but I also wanted to share with you other things that help.
What do we do when we're drowning?
1. We acknowledge it
We allow our emotions a seat at the table and recognize how we feel. The good and the bad. Some people like to do this vocally, or expressively (like crying).
My favorite way to sort through my emotions is through prayer and meditation. Now that I have started journaling as a habit, that has really been helping to.
It's important to not skip this step because like I said, it doesn't matter if your aggravations are less sever than someone else's; they are still causing you pain. To ignore it would be falsely optimistic. Even worse, to tell yourself that you should "get over it" because your problems are not bad enough would be to invalidate your emotions. If we don't validate our emotions we don't give them a chance to get resolved.
2. We get some perspective
Are we drowning in a cup of water? Or in a lake? Or in the deep blue ocean?
This is the step you can do after your emotions are more or less out of your system and not clouding your judgement. We rationalize through what has happened to make us feel this way and whether or not we can handle it. Some useful questions to ask are: what will I think about this 5 or 10 years from now? In the grand scheme of my life how will this help/hurt me? What are the good things I can focus on? Could this situation be worse? Is stressing helping the situation (almost always no!) or just prolonging my suffering?
One of the first things I learnt when I was learning how to swim was how much easier it is to float when you aren't trying. If you try too hard, your muscles get tenser and denser, which can make you sink. There's definitely moments when fighting is useful - maybe even crucial. But there are moments where more can be gained from letting go and trusting that things will unfold as they will. It is our job to distinguish which one to do - but it's harder to see when there is so much turbulence in our thoughts. That is why getting perspective to see things clearer is so essential.
If you're journaling, writing a gratitude list - of for example, the resources and people you have to help you get through - is a great way to start. Another great journaling idea is writing affirmations to remind yourself of all the strength and capabilities you already have to make things better.
Stepping away from the problem from a while can also give you enough distance to have a wider perspective.
Another thing I do to get some perspective is laugh. Yup, literally: just laugh at the situation. Finding the humor in things is a great way to realize it won't always be as serious as it may seem in the moment.
3. Helping ourselves swim
After a little bit of perspective and evaluation: you now have the answer to the question are you drowning in a cup of water?
If so, how can you help yourself swim?
What things would make you feel better right now? For me, the first thing is usually going to the gym or on a walk to blow off some heat. But I will also try to brainstorm actions I can take to solve the problem directly.
If you are drowning in the ocean. Start with writing the things that are in your power and that you can change. Then, reach out to people or use your resources to get help. Meanwhile, focus on how to take care of yourself, stay well and prepared.
Much love,
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