Oh the irony of going from preaching a calm, intentional, and carefree lifestyle to whining about being neck deep in a crisis. I usually use this blog to work out my personal problems on the intellectual front, but I don’t necessarily intend to showcase any sign of panic especially as I go through these problems in real time. But public venting has its perks. It perhaps allows me to also sit with the problems and stare at them in the (figurative) eyes; it offers an outlet which I don’t always have to overthink or feel the need to restrain; and it strengthens solidarity with others who are experiencing the same feelings. More importantly, it invites a dose of accountability should I end up expressing the intention to work out my issues in public. It’s no one’s responsibility to reinforce my will for me, but intuitively, my mind is relieved of the burden to be in complete control of all my willpower. In a twisted way, I am outsourcing such control to potential feelings of shame and humiliation in the case of my failure to honor my public intentions. But on the flip side, I can also make out the pride and celebratory spirits at the end of the tunnel should I manage to do what I have publicly set out to do. External motivation, how about that?
‘Crisis’ actually has two meanings. It could either mean a catastrophe, something to panic and distress over because we are falling deeper and deeper into trouble. But ‘crisis’ also means a critical point at which decisions are made to turn things around. This second meaning suggests more hope for resolution and emphasizes the upside, the turnaround state of ‘being in a crisis’. I like this; or rather, I need this. The first interpretation is often only realized when things have already crossed a certain threshold and the only reasonable response at this point is despair because action feels too late. But then the second interpretation is the aftermath of it, and it’s not as optional as most tend to conclude. I find it crucial for myself to understand that certainly, when a crisis descends on me (or I descend into a crisis, either image works), hoping for things to return to their original state is wishful thinking in most cases. BUT this doesn’t imply that crises only progress one way. I could pull the brake, switch to reverse gear, and slowly back up as much as I can. There are two things to note about this analogy of reversing a vehicle. The first is that often we cannot 100% back the vehicle up in the exact path which we have already engraved. Human driving is intuitive, so we can’t control our direction with the exactitude that would be done by machines. The second idea to note is that on certain roads, like the dirt ones, perhaps having an existing path actually makes it easier to reverse. This comes in the form of the lessons we can learn from our crisis-inducing actions. As we trace back our steps, we feel a certain comfort of “having been there” as well as the ease of being guided on a trodden path. Recovering from a crisis doesn’t have to be difficult nor demoralizing. The awareness of how we have messed up could strangely bring solace and reinforce a pattern so we don’t repeat it in the future.
Writing this post makes me realize how deeply inclined I am to introspection and the practice of intellectualizing my problems in order to find solutions. It might not be the most efficient method to tackle a personal crisis (not to mention, it is possibly annoying to others who already have their issues and give no sh*t about my rambling). Yet, if I forego this step, I feel incomplete and unprepared to move somehow. What I also realize from writing this is how I almost always start every piece of reflection with a justification of some sorts. The whole first paragraph of every post is usually me rationalizing why the writing has to exist, as if it cannot be justified in itself. Is this a validation-seeking behavior? I don’t know. But here I am, once again making a whole (half?) show of self-aware deliberation because I just cannot get out of the habit. Does the self-awareness help with the urgent problem solving I’m directly facing? No. But does it make me feel like I’m making progress in some other, abstract aspects of my life? Yeah, absolutely.
Going forward, I doubt I’m letting go of my time-consuming, intellectually draining (stimulating?) habits of thinking and writing about my problems. A little bit of emotional display is not too terrible either. But at the same time, as many of my most trusted friends and advisors tell me, action is where progress is. Especially the urgent type of progress. My aggressive mind may want to take control of my life by hoarding all the work and feeling smug about suppressing the need for action. But the rest of my body sometimes just needs to shove the mind to the backseat and take over. Sometimes it’s as simple as counting down from 5 and starting whatever I need to do without allowing my mind any time to get creative with excuses and justifications. Or shushing the chaotic mind that constantly looks for distractions in the middle of an activity that requires deep trances of focus. Rather than relying exclusively on either reflection or action, combining both is possibly the most effective way out of a crisis. And remember, when we’re neck deep in a crisis, don’t worry about draining all the water. Just get it to the level of the waist and turn off the tap; the crisis is already gone.