Overtime
I don’t have a single client, friend, family member or colleague who is not dealing with escalated anxiety right now. The past two weeks (which have felt like a solid year) have felt like walking through one of those funhouses at the fair where the ground is moving except this is not a funhouse and there are no walls to hold onto for balance. We have no touch points for what is happening, for how long we are going to be left managing this situation. I personally feel like I have moved through all the stages of grief and yet perhaps negotiation and acceptance were always just denial because I have no idea what exactly I’m being asked to accept or for how long.
Thus, Ann came back in full effect. She is relentless. Every day, I would think I’ve outrun her, and there she was again.
Under normal circumstances (which obviously these are not), I sit down with her for a little chat and I kindly ask her what she wants from me. But I know what she wants from me. She wants me to keep hustling, keep running, keep vacuuming, keep picking up, keep working, keep checking email, keep scrolling through feed after feed after feed. She wants me to obsess about my kids time on the screens while simultaneously lulling me into the screen. She is a narcissistic you-know-what who wants me to only feel her all the time.
Meet Anxiety. I call her Ann for short.
When she’s like this, she’s waiting for me before my feet even hit the floor in the morning. As I round the corner from the bedroom hallway into the living room, she’s already whispering her annoyances to me. It’s a mess in here. Why is he on the phone? She never puts up her shoes. He’s always on that ipad. Need to vacuum. Again. How are we ever going to fill this day? They are going to be bored. You didn’t exercise yesterday. We’ve got to limit the junk food. You weren’t at your best for work this week. She hasn’t called you back. They are texting you too much. You’re really not cut out for this.
Before I’ve even gotten to the coffee, Ann has ruined my morning, possibly my day, stuck her finger into a childhood wound, and planted me solidly in ego thinking (me, me, me).
In spite of this, I’ve been making the absurd mistake of checking in with Ann about my day. That is how crafty and manipulative she is, making you feel like you need her. Hey Ann, I made art for the world because I thought it might help them. What do you think? Should we say something or better to keep quiet right now? Oh, quiet, yah of course. You’re right. Let’s grab that vacuum. Hey Ann, I need a little alone time, I’m struggling with all the stimulation. What do you think about letting the kids be on screens a little longer while we do a little meditation or quiet reading? Selfish.
Ann is not stupid. She is not running around screaming, “GLOBAL PANDEMIC! PEOPLE YOU LOVE ARE GOING TO DIE! THERE WON’T BE WORK FOR YOU WHEN IT’S OVER. TURN ON FOX NEWS!” because she knows how easy it would be for me to say, “No, Ann. We NEVER watch Fox news. I’m not a catastrophizer; my family is safe and healthy.” No, she creeps into the cracks and crevices of life and causes worry about ONE MILLION TINY THINGS.
Ann has one job: to warn you of danger. It’s just that once she has done her job, she doesn’t know when to leave. She brings you a message and ends up crashing the entire party. She stays too long.
But I know Ann’s kryptonite. We’ve been here before. Silence and solitude are her sworn enemies. She hates being outside. She has a general disdain for ALL the other feelings, especially Joy and Sadness. She’s not a fan of focusing on any one thing for very long. She cannot stand when I speak kindly to myself, when I’m gentle with me and then those around me. Consistency is not her thing either; she thrives in chaos. She’s also an extreme victim; she takes responsibility for nothing. Everything she feels is someone else’s fault. So when I own my decisions and habits and feelings, that really pisses her off. And don’t even put her and Humor in the same room unless you want to drive her away. She’d rather read the news than poetry. And definitely don’t write or make art or sing or create anything.
But the final straw between Ann and me are Tears. When my deep Sadness comes, Tears wash her away and I can finally see Beauty again. Meaning. Love.
I volunteered to go pick up the burgers for Eli’s birthday dinner. Outside. Windows down. I plugged in my phone to play my music and it went to most recently downloaded: Tanya Tucker’s Bring My Flowers Now. Go ahead and take a listen.
“So if you got love then you’re sittin’ on a gold mine
And you can’t take it with you when you go
So don’t wait, help your sister, forgive your brother and your neighbor
We all think we’ve got the time until we don’t
Bring my flowers now while I’m livin’
I won’t need your love when I’m gone
Don’t spend time, tears, or money on my ole breathless body
If your heart is in them flowers, bring them on”
Ann was no match for the Tears that came. As I sat in the parking lot waiting for my food, the deep Sadness came and while she hurts, she’s the truth that sets me free. Here’s what she said:
Life is so damn precious. And we’re missing it.
When Mary Oliver asked, “what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life” she wasn’t racing to a VERY IMPORTANT MEETING. She was watching a grasshopper. She was paying attention.
Yes, our social distancing is breaking our collective hearts for all the precious moments of togetherness that we are missing and for the outcomes of lost jobs and lives that will be devastated from this process. Hospitals. Prisons. Poor communities. We won’t ignore the painful reality of this crisis.
But we will keep looking for Hope. We see another togetherness rising up: people and businesses are feeding hungry people who always needed to be fed, our social imagination is on fire with new ideas for how to connect and provide for one another, for-profit businesses are activating their social consciousness. New parts of us are waking up. There is no denying how connected we are. How our very survival depends on walking each other home. Great suffering and great love are dancing together.
We always needed to slow down. Be where you are now. Sit in the heat of this fire. And see how instead of being consumed you are refined. Look for the helpers. Be a helper when you can. Call your people. Tell them you love them. Keep showing up and praying, even if you just have to sit in the car.
Tanya is right, “There’s always sunrise and rainbows and babies. The days are long but the years are lightening. They are bright and they will never strike again.” Today is his birthday. You are sitting on a gold mine.
A young woman brought the burgers and fries and shakes to the car. I wanted to hug her but instead I gave her twenty bucks and said thank you for working today. This is making my son’s birthday. When I got home, Eli got a facetime call from a buddy to say happy birthday. At first, they didn’t know what to say to one another. Nine year old boys aren’t typically chatting on the phone. But after a few minutes of awkward silence, Eli and his friend decided to jump on the trampoline together. His laughter as he waved the phone in the air while his buddy did the same just a few streets over was the “hallelujah anyway” we needed. Friendship is still the greatest salve to our wounds.
I want to be mad at Ann but I just can’t. We’ve been together for too long. She’s brought me some important messages.
So I walk outside. Take a few deep breaths. Look her square in the eyes and tell her the truth: “I actually love you. In some way, it’s comforting to me to know you’re always there. But you’re not taking over. You’re not in charge. You can’t see what Sadness and Joy can see. You only want to hang out with Fear and Frantic. And you never invite Hope. Bye Ann. I’ll see you later.”
About a month ago (none of us can refer to any 2020 timeline with clarity at this point), my daughter, Stella, was playing in the semi-finals of her basketball tournament. She had been sick off and on the several weeks prior and they had already played a game earlier that morning. Their team was ranked fifth in the league. The team they were about to play was ranked first. Tied at the end of the fourth quarter, they went into overtime. Tied at the end of overtime, they went into double overtime. As I watched Stella walk from the bench one more time to center court to tip the ball, my heart went out to her. I could feel her “mommy, I’m so tired” and her “I will never quit” happening at exactly the same time.
Friends, I feel like we are headed into double overtime. We are out of gas and the odds were never stacked in our favor. We are so tired. And we will never quit. Both are true.
practices & resources
Write Ann a letter and tell her your truth. Share it with us if you want. #laterann
Brene Brown showing up in the world in new ways is the divine intervention we all needed:
Her podcast on how their family plan for “gap time” when both parents are hanging by a thread is brilliant.
Her Sunday night 15 minute church at 6 pm on her Insta-story is how our family is doing faith gathering.
My best friend Vonda gave me this book by Charlie Macksey and it is saving me right now.