A tree doesn’t resist the wind. Its branches bend in soft submission. A boat doesn’t push against the waves. It sways in inevitable alignment. But when we are faced with painful or challenging situations, we often find ourselves struggling, battling, arguing with or even denying the truth of what lies before us.
n essence, we often spend a large majority of our lives rallying against the reality of what ‘is’. And to that end, we resist change. We can be intrinsically suspicious of change and understandably fearful of loss, and in our battle to push against it, we can miss the fact that we have shut ourselves down and closed ourselves off to the potential beauty and richness of what might come next.
Life is a consistent ebb and flow of experiences, some we deem good, fulfilling and joyous, and some we deem bad, difficult and painful. To cope with the difficult experiences, we often instinctively assume a white-knuckle grip on the problem, our attention becoming hyper-focused on it like a fish eye lens.
This can be useful for problem-solving or grieving if it’s short term, but on a consistent basis, this white-knuckle gripping on resisting a reality (e.g. a relationship that has been lost, a job promotion that was not awarded) can damage our ability to show up fully to other relationships and we can lose connection to what once mattered to us.
This is not to suggest that we shouldn’t make effort to sustain what we work for or what is important to us. Fighting for what matters to us reinforces our sense of purpose. But fighting against what has already happened, and trying to re-write the past keeps us firmly entrenched and trapped emotionally, cognitively and behaviourally. This is also known as psychological rigidity.
One of the problems is that we often believe we have control over things we do not have control over. The more we try to grab hold of anxiety to whip it into submission, the larger it grows.
The greater effort we expend in ruminating on the same problem over and over, the more it gives us the illusion that we are engaging in some well-spent strategic thinking. So we persist. But we persist to the detriment of those around us, as well as to ourselves as we have less and less emotional energy to focus on what else is important to us in our lives.
Psychological rigidity exists when we keep buying a ticket to the chaotic circus that our thoughts and feelings are selling us. We allow ourselves to get swirled up into their fearful predictions and concerns and we get hooked by what they tell us or caught up in the intensity of how our nervous system reacts. The thing is, it is not the thoughts and feelings themselves, but rather our buying into them that causes us the biggest problem.
Psychological flexibility on the other hand, is choosing to loosen the lid on what we believe to be true. For example, I might feel that I am worthless, but is there any evidence at all that I’m not? Who gets to decide I’m worthless? Why am I giving them that power?
As much as I might decide that I am worthless, can I choose to decide I am not? This is cognitive flexibility.
It is the ability to choose not to be ‘hijacked’ by difficult and uncomfortable thoughts and feelings in a moment, no matter how true we think they might be.
It is standing back at least half an inch away from these tough thoughts and feelings, watching them float by, and in the name of what matters to you, such as your relationships or your goals, choosing not to allow these thoughts and feelings to hijack your behaviours. Because here’s the thing — no matter what your thoughts and feelings are communicating to you, they do not have to control what you do next. You can, at any moment, take conscious deliberate action based on what matters to you in your life.
To continue the visual, psychological flexibility is like watching the circus of our thoughts and feelings pass through the town. They might hang around for a while, but we don’t have to buy the ticket.
What any one individual has to cope with at any given time across their lifetime ranges wildly on the spectrum of challenges. But the reason why coping is an art in and of itself, is that the ability to cope with and navigate difficulty through developing psychological flexibility improves with practice. The increasing capacity to sway, to flow, and in the words of Bruce Lee — to ‘be like water’ — in the face of obstacles is one of the most significant predictors of good mental health.
So instead of white-knuckle gripping onto thoughts and feelings — let go. Light-knuckle ride your way through storms, moving and bending with inevitabilities, retaining your energy for what matters to you.
As we come to the end of this series on the art of coping, I want to remind you of our four-point strategy for dealing with difficult challenges:
Old coping habits: Become aware of your habits. How do you typically cope with stress? Do you distract, avoid, over-think or numb yourself? Get to know your patterns.
Thoughts are not facts: What stories do you tell yourself about you, about others or about your situation? And even if you think these thoughts are true, are they helping you get to where you want to go? Can you move towards what matters to you, even if your thoughts tell you otherwise?
Feelings don’t predict the future: They are often a habitual fear-based reaction to old circumstances and old beliefs that tell you that you can’t cope. You can. You are an adult now, and (pending no overt physical danger) you are safe.
You can choose what you do next: It is the white-knuckle gripping of beliefs that keep you stuck. Light-knuckles, let go. Watch your thoughts and feelings go by as though they were a circus moving through town. Don’t buy a ticket. Once you release yourself from this pattern, you are free to do what matters to you. This is the art of coping.