When Life Feels Heavy, Ask This Question

I write these words under the gathering clouds of war, possibly even the beginnings of yet another world war. Even without the threat of global conflict that could once again ignite a deadly bonfire and cause humans to destroy each other, we live in distressing times. 

Tuning in, I seek the place within myself that lives beneath political labels, what I do to earn money, my aspirations for personal comfort and pleasure, and beneath the sheer welling of fear generated by existing in a culture that seems to have been bitten by the rabid dogs named Control and Greed. 

This is a quiet place, and one must be willing to leave the urgent, screaming voices behind to hear what it has to say.

This isn’t easy. 

I feel the fear, shared by so many around me, that the ability to live a safe, peaceful life might be taken away. Of course, I am aware that my position in the world is largely possible because of privilege – white American privilege. And I don’t use that term as a scold against those of us brought up in an environment of perceived safety and comfort. These are good things; we just haven’t realized how good we’ve had it. 

We have enjoyed a protective atmosphere for so long that, like fish born into water, we can’t easily imagine existence without privileges such as: 

• The freedom to think, speak, and live as we wish.
• An expectation that working hard will yield comfort and prosperity.
• A framework of laws that can be relied upon as guardrails that prevent us from tipping into uncertainty and chaos.
• Belief in the promise of goodwill and humanity underlying our culture.
• A reasonable assumption of everyday safety.

As I form this incomplete list of modern expectations, fog creeps back from the glass, and I see more clearly that each of them is only held in place by mutual agreement and common practice. 

They aren’t unbreakable. 

Like any other structure we build, they require maintenance and collaboration with others to keep them in place, operating well. I was born into them and was formed by them.  Now I become increasingly aware that they aren’t automatic – and that many living in this world right now have never known any of them.

If you are afraid of facing life without those truths that we have held as self-evident and immutable, you aren’t alone. 

I feel those same fears ,and I am processing grief over the loss of an illusion that I can just go along living my life from beginning to end without expending much thought or effort to enjoy these comforts.

One thing I have learned is that our psyches crave certainty with desperation nearly equal to how our bodies demand the air we breathe. 

This shows up in the life of one of my clients who recently lost his job. He’s over fifty and has always worked in an industry that artificial intelligence is turning upside down. He has enjoyed a comfortable home, enough income to pursue his love of the outdoors and music, and the satisfaction of doing excellent work. He now fears that all of this is threatened, and with good reason.

It appears for a young person I know who is gender fluid and fears that recent changes in the laws will make it dangerous to continue living what feels true to them. They walk through days of feeling conspicuous and therefore under threat.

If you open any of your social media apps, you will quickly feel the miasma of collective fear that existing as a human in modern times has become too expensive, exhausting, and fraught with unhealthy levels of stress.

Of course, the times in which we live are not unprecedented, despite the fact that headlines and news stories tell us that they are nearly every day.

The modern world has been scorched by wars, famines, cruel regimes, financial disasters, and plagues – and our species has survived these tragedies by asking one crucial question, which we will examine in a moment.

In 1942, just nine months after his marriage, a young Austrian psychologist, Viktor Frankl and his family were sent to the Nazi Theresienstadt concentration camp. His father died there of starvation and pneumonia. In 1944, Frankl and his surviving relatives were transported to Auschwitz, where his mother and brother were murdered in the gas chambers. His wife Tilly died later of typhus in Bergen-Belsen. 

He endured life at the bare wire of existence as a suffering, frightened person, but also as a trained observer. 

His terrible experiences eventually led him to write the life-changing book, Man’s Search for Meaning.

Among the many treasures in that small volume, you will find this:

“Everything can be taken from a person but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

So, here was a person entering his professional life in a sophisticated, cultured country with nothing but expectations of achievement and significance on the horizon. 

He went on, “Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation.”

Through no fault of his own, external forces robbed him of nearly everything that makes life worth the trouble of living it. 

But not everything. 

He survived the ordeals and emerged with medicine that is as potent and relevant now as it was when the ink was still drying on the pages of Man’s Search for Meaning.

Dr. Frankl asked this question in other words: “Who will I be in the face of this?”

And this is the question that can bring us back to earth and set us into appropriate action in the face of what we are going through at this moment in history.

“Who will I be in the face of this …”

• Job loss
• Shakeup of the norms and expectations in a democracy
• News of widespread uncertainty and fear
• Car breakdown and little money for repairs
• Death of a loved one
• End of a relationship
• Load of debt
• Fear that life will run out and I’ll never catch my breath and feel safe or fulfilled
• Other things you’re going through but I won’t try to list here (because the list can go on forever, literally)

This question is often best applied in the smallest ways at first, especially if you’re feeling frozen and unable to move at all.

Let’s take just one item on the list. 

Who will I be in the face of this job loss?

The voices of fear will speak inside your head when you wake up at 2:45 am to pee, “I’ll be a loser. I’ll run out of money and lose my house. My friends and family will lose respect for me and I’ll be a castaway. I’m so tired of the struggle, I’ll never find the energy to start again.”

The truth is that most of us are exhausted by the pace of keeping up in the modern thing we call life. Our nervous systems are frazzled. The glands that send stress hormones surging through our bodies – and help us take appropriate action in times of danger – are depleted from overuse. 

It’s a terrible idea to start from a place of burnout and exhaustion and try to muster the imagination of conquering everything all at once. 

But that question remains, “Who will I be in the face of this?”

Sticking to the basics, to what’s absurdly simple, we can begin to find the answers. 

At first, the answers may seem too fundamental:

I’ll stay alive.

I’ll get out of this bed and wash my face and sit in the sunshine for a few minutes.

I will be the kind of person who handles simple things around the house.

I’ll allow myself to connect with others, even just a little.

From there, perhaps higher-level answers will emerge:

I’ll be a person who is kind to myself and others.

I’ll be curious, creative, and flexible as I move in the direction of new meaningful work. 

I’ll find satisfaction in solving uncomfortable problems with honesty and courage.

I’ll be a willing hand for someone else I know who needs help.

Notice that these examples start close in, within your own arms’ reach. 

You don’t have to muster the strength to take on the mountains of problems in this world. In fact, that’s one of the lies despair tells us, and it serves to block us from taking the tiny steps forward that would make a genuine difference. 

Since you’re reading this message from my heart, I presume that you’re not enduring the extreme ordeals of a Viktor Frankl – but that doesn’t make what you’re going through painless or invalid.

Ask the question, “Who will I be in the face of this?”, then start close in, within your own arms’ reach. 

If you journal (or you’d like to experiment with it as a tool for clarity and guidance), I recommend using the question as a prompt and apply it to the thing gnawing a tunnel through your mind.

Write it down: “Who will I be in the face of this?”

Let the answers come and notice how they often push the door open just a crack and let some light come in.

The answers to that question will serve as an antidote to despair and overwhelm. They will provide at least one step forward on the path, and that’s the only step you can take at one time anyway – the next one. And then the next. And the next.

But only one at a time for now. The step that’s right in front of you.

And if you’re like me, sometimes we need the reflection and help of others in the process. I have done one-on-one intuitive guidance work for over ten years. It is my great honor to create space that allows people to ask the questions they’re struggling with and find the wisdom they need within. I have opened my schedule to allow for more sessions, and you can ask my assistant to help you find a time for us to meet via Zoom by clicking here.

Photo by Hamid Samanian on Unsplash