by Lissa Carter, LPC
When my new client walked into the office her head was hanging so low, I felt concerned about the integrity of her spine. The speed of her speech infused every word with exhaustion.
“Everything in my life is out of my control,” she stated. “I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that every minute of my day is scheduled from 5 am until I drop into bed at 11. My mother is dying. My husband is having panic attacks. One of my children refuses to go to school unless we drag her and the other will go, but has stopped communicating with us. I think she might be taking pills, she is sleepy all the time, but I can’t even face confronting her because work consumes every waking moment and then when I do finally get home there are the dishes, the laundry, the yard, the homework, the dinner, the groceries, the dog needs a walk, the dental appointments, the leaking faucet. There is never enough money, never enough time, never enough breathing space. I know I should be exercising and eating right and journaling and doing yoga and taking care of myself and all of those things, and it’s just insult added to injury that I know what I need and don’t have time or money to do it.”
For the first time, her eyes rose to meet mine, and I saw the ghost of a sparkle there. “So…do you think you can help me?”
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Let’s all just take a moment and exhale. Were you holding your breath? I find I am, just writing this. And I certainly was holding my breath in that room, feeling my client’s exhaustion in my own hunching shoulders, in my own rapidly spinning mind, as I found myself frantically attempting to conjure some magical relief for her.
Taking that one breath, that one moment between stimulus and response, is often the only control we have.
In that tiny pause we can bring our consciousness to bear, we can apply our fierce intelligence and deeply-held wisdom to these moments of our lives.
But we don’t. Not most of us, not most of the time. Know why?
Because it hurts too much.
It hurts too much to be conscious, because when we are conscious we have to feel the loss of all the things we thought we would have by now that we do not have.
All the things we once had that we no longer have.
All the parts of ourselves that are longing to be seen and loved.
All the parts of ourselves that we actively reject.
All the sorrows of the world.
All the pain of our friends and family.
Staying busy serves us. There is so much pain we have to feel if we slow down for even a minute.
When we are fully awake to our lives, we are fully experiencing not just the joy and the laughter and the meaning, we are also fully experiencing the sorrow and the rage and the pain. Most of us prefer to dull that down. So we find ways not to feel. We go into autopilot.
And life spins out of control.
Because here’s the thing about autopilot: it never, ever leads us in the direction of growth and innate wellbeing. It leads us toward the next pleasure or away from the next pain, which is not the same thing at all.
The one thing, the ONLY thing we can truly control in life, is our values.
Our values are completely under our control. They are not contingent upon anything. My thoughts rise spontaneously, my eyes tear up without my deciding to cry, but my values are chosen.
So every moment that I can consciously take that pause between stimulus and response, and choose my action based upon my values, my life comes a little more under my conscious control. I begin to steer myself toward a life experience that matches what I long for.
I am choosing to hug my son for a full minute before I set the table because I value warmth and closeness.
I am choosing to drink chamomile tea instead of coffee this morning because I value a sense of calm.
I am choosing to take a deep breath instead of snapping out a response because I value compassionate communication.
And to do this, we have to let go of autopilot. We have to feel.
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In my client’s words, in her posture, I was reading the signs of autopilot loud and clear.
I took a breath. In the space of that breath, I contacted an old friend, the feeling of being an imposter. I contacted shame about all the times that, for some reason, I have been unable to help. I felt all of these things, and I reminded myself of my values of authenticity and openness. I let those values guide what I said next.
“I know from what you have told me that you are strained to the breaking point. And I know that the counseling journey asks a lot of you. It asks mindfulness of you, because we can only change our lives to the extent that we are conscious of them. And if you build the skill to change your life, you will simultaneously build your awareness of how painful your current life situation is. This puts me in a bind, because I am in this to help people. I know that helping you will probably cause you to experience more pain before things get better. So I am asking you: is that a bargain you are willing to make?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded.
Burnout is not a sign of weakness. Burnout is a sign of strength, a sign of being way too strong for way too long.
Sitting in front of me was an exceptionally strong woman. We were on our way.
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What do you do to avoid pain? What do you do to keep your fears from whispering to you? How do these things get in the way of choosing to do what matters to you?
Meaning doesn’t need every minute of every day. Meaning just needs a portal, a moment of sweetness in which you can connect to what truly matters to you.
Meaning seeps through that portal and infuses the moments of your day and the days of your life with value and purpose.
If we are willing to open the gates of meaning— knowing that when it comes it will bring pain as well as purpose—if we are willing to make enough room for that, we will start to regain control of our lives. Moment by moment, choice by choice, word by word.
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What matters to you? How will you let that inform your choices today?
If you are struggling to find and nurture deep meaning in a life that demands a breakneck pace, join Lissa in December for a journey into the sacred space of dreams.
Our dreams are attempts to bring our lives into balance, to show us the neglected and unacknowledged parts of ourselves, to guide us toward wholeness. And many of us are too busy to remember them, let alone write them down or learn from them.
In this 4-hour deep dive into somatic dreamwork, we will slow down to the pace of our dreams through group dream imagery, expressive arts exploration, meditative movement, and guided dream journey. Bring a dream that has lingered with you, or harvest a dream-image from the guided meditation. You will emerge with a deeper understanding of your own wisdom and a renewed commitment to the sacred meaning of your own life.
Lissa is facilitating this intimate retreat in a private residence, and there are only 4 spaces left. If this topic is speaking to you, please reserve your spot soon!
This story is a composite of several clients to protect privacy. Many thanks to the brave, vulnerable, powerful clients who shared parts of their work in hopes that these stories will serve you.
We always love to hear from you. Feel free to comment below, or reach out to us via email at innerlightasheville@gmail.com.