“I’m so overwhelmed,” she said. “It gives me so much stress. I need to get rid of it!”
I looked at her, and waited a second before I said:
“Let’s stay with it for a while first. Can you do that?”
Surprise and annoyance flashed in equal measure over her face so fast I would have missed it if I’d blinked. She shrugged and said: “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”
We both closed our eyes. I guided her attention back to her body. Away from the story about the overwhelm, to the actual experience of it in her body: shallow breath. Tightness on her chest and in her shoulders. Tilting slightly forward, as if bracing to defend herself for an upcoming fight.
Slowly, the sensations began to unravel. Her breathing deepened without trying to. Her shoulders dropped. She leaned back into her chair. Her whole system settled. A wave of tiredness was followed by a wave of relief.
We opened our eyes. I asked about the overwhelm. Was it still here?
She looked surprised. “Huh?! Ehm … no! It’s gone!”
It disappeared without fixing it.
It just evaporated on its own.
I pointed out that overwhelm was nothing more than a story the mind told her. Thoughts stumbling over one another telling her that overwhelm was Bad, and it needed to be fixed, and if she didn’t fix it it would destroy her life, and also, she needed a haircut.
And when she dropped into the body, and let the thoughts yap yap yap without paying much attention to it, and she felt what happened in her body …
The thoughts retreated on their own, offended by the lack of her usual attention. Like a wounded lover who suddenly ghosts you.
Overwhelm doesn’t need to be fixed.
Neither does stress.
Or sadness.
Or boredom.
Sure, perhaps an action comes up later, spontaneously. Maybe you create order in mental chaos by making a to-do list. Or you reschedule an appointment. But it doesn’t happen because your inner catastrophist pushes you uncomfortably hard to get your shit together, now!
It happens because … it happens.
Like eating happens.
And breathing.
And burping.
There’s nothing to fix, ever.
(Except your hair.)
(Go make that appointment.)
Love,
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