I like to “get lost.” Particularly on my lunch breaks, if I brought my lunch, I’ll wander somewhere new to eat, then write. If not, I’ll walk anonymously into any large crowd to shed the artificial interpretations of my ego related to my perceived stresses throughout my journey of sustenance. Forgetting about myself is a useful way for me to regulate the looming sense of disaster after disaster that, if unregulated, could lead to insobriety.
Controlled stress massages uncontrolled stress.
There are unavoidable stresses when I row: dedicating the time to rowing, the aching muscles, and the accountability now that missing a set should be with such good reason that obligatorily, I should just row anyways. Yet, through the process of massaging most of my major muscle groups, I’ve found that I can repair parts of my body that might have received minor afflictions through mistakes on my part. Broadening this out a bit, the more I’ve analyzed how I react to certain stimuli, like rowing with my physical therapy form to soothe strained muscles, the more I can apply what I might need in that situation.
This, of course, is highly subjective.
Because years back, I’d be terrified of walking through crowds at concerts. I just picked a spot and stood there all night. I’d get pissed if someone blocked my view, and still do to some degree, but I forfeited my free will of moving around to a different spot in exchange for the comfort of having a low-conflict spot. I think we all do this. Once I started writing concert reviews, I realized that if I didn’t get out there and walk closer to the stage, be awkward, and possibly interact with other human beings, I wasn’t going to get the shot. Now I’m usually much more comfortable navigating around.
I think both are a matter of jamming through traffic jams.
I don’t mean in the aggressive honking of your horn. I mean more of finding your route through the traffic by adapting to the situation. If there’s a crowd of people clustered together in one small area, is it easier to blast through them or walk around? Perhaps this is verbalizing a subconscious feeling, but I’ve found that the more of those sorts of situations I throw myself into throughout decompression lunch breaks, the more I can consciously remember to dodge those stress-clusters at the artificial stress factories of work or in really stressful situations: dodging tweakers in their lowest points.
I find most of my stress begins with my interpretation of it.
I used to internalize work interactions perhaps to make sure I’ve perfected this sense of being a good worker. No! I get in there, do the best I can, then when I leave the doors, I drop all the nuance and characterization. Maybe those thoughts will creep in while I’m relaxing. Hopefully not. I can’t bill for that time.
At least when I’m knee-deep in traffic, my mind is lost in the present.
|Sources: My personal and professional experiences.|
|Photo: Pike Place Market with Better Zombie-style censorship.|
|Written On: June 22nd [30 minutes]|
|Last Edited: June 22nd|