Monthly Archives: April 2013

Balancing Stress

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I have an ambivalent relationship with stress. I think many others share this trait; I’m not such a special and interesting snowflake, and I can’t be the only one who feels this way. I have nurtured a love/hate relationship with my dear friend cortisol; our fiery arguments are now and then neutered by a hurried make up.

 

I never truly felt stress until I was 19. Even still, I remember a transitional period rather than a wrenching and eye-opening introduction to the adult world of achievement anxiety, self-criticism, and personal development. I had begun to engage in a rapid succession of self-improvements and personal revolution, building the blocks for a new, self-deterministic identity. I identified with self-improvement. I felt the desire to achieve as a new and burning commandment; though must succeed. I became addicted. Stress was life.

 

From a narcissistic perspective, my life became far better. I developed a routine of exercise, healthy eating, and a saturated social life. I was stronger, healthier, and more confident. My grades were better, and I pushed to meet more people. These changes came at a cost; intrinsic feelings of self-esteem and enjoyment slowly crumbled. My whole sense of self was centred upon achievements, popularity, and productivity, and the net of self-acceptance became severed. The act of self-improvement involves the acknowledgement of weakness. From this, an estranged relationship with stress was born.

 

Stress was the life force that pushed me forward, and salvaged me from the grips of mediocrity. Stress was the separation between a lower and higher state of being and awareness. Stress was the beginning of adulthood, and the replacement of the inner sense of natural well-being we possess as children. I muse over what caused this switch, I still couldn’t tell you. Something had changed.

 

The danger of progressive change is in adaptation. You accept each step along the journey. A marathon runner may train for a 5k, push for six, and then move on to ten. By this stage the previously daunting six becomes a formality. For me, the culmination of stress and anxiety steadily built in an unrecognisable progression. I adapted to my feelings and circumstances.

 

Things reached a tipping point. By the time I turned 21 stress riddled my life, and I was no longer allowing myself to enjoy simple moments. I felt anything unproductive was a waste of time. I struggled to muster the energy to focus my passions. I formed a stress related bottleneck, afraid that I wasn’t maximising my potential every single second of every single day. I became increasingly aware this had to change.

 

I spent a lot of my time so far in Australia removing the toxic anxiety from my life; listening to music for an hour became a joy, I began to practice meditation. I found I could happily give my time to helping others and remove the focus from my own self for extended lapses of time. It worked. I felt euphoric, a feeling that has since plateaued and strongly established itself in my present. I have recovered joy in the simplest moments. It has been a beautiful time. I feel alive. Paradoxically, I see better results in my hobbies, life direction, relationships, and physical health than ever before. Had stress; the life force I so strived to cultivate for self-improvement, been my ruin? If you water a plant too much, it will die.

 

Stress was shut away, but has wasted no time creeping back in. I submissively unbolted the door and welcomed it back. My satisfaction plateaued. I felt lazy. The total absence of stress was not the answer. I realised that things were not so black and white and that feelings of existential discomfort did in fact possess purpose. Stress does serve a purpose; it regulates the fine balance between work and relaxation. Perhaps this is why we live our lives in such a peculiar way, swinging between extremes of tension and relaxation. We work; we rest, in distinctive allotments. Most of western civilisation leave their house, spend 8-10 hours in a state of stress, return home, and relax. Our recharge period consists of a weekend. During this time we once again reassume a blissful state of relaxation, usually facilitated by gratuitous spending and alcoholic beverages. The moments I have truly felt the most relaxed and at peace have followed periods of intensive work and pressure. Are we designed to be creatures of extremity that can live only in two categories – exhorbitant comfort and ball-busting pressure? Is the true purpose in life to beat the system and strike the idyllic balance between stress and peace of mind, in order to breeze effortlessly through both life’s rigours and joys?

 

Stress regulates your life and achievement. Without stress we would never prepare for the future, we would not change our circumstances, and we would lack the impetus to elicit positive change. Stress is an archaic discomfort that at a base level keeps us aware and alive, but torments the higher functioning state of mind we have developed in advanced and complicated society. It is badly adapted to modern life. Humans at the most basic level, like animals, have their lives directed and driven by stress. The modern human cannot accept this, and must take the reigns and steer, handling their own emotional welfare. The productive energy that keeps you alive and moving can quickly imprison you if unregulated.

 

Things are different now. Stress helps me steer myself into the fantastical sweet spot between productivity and contentment, challenge and ease. It is an influencing force that tugs at the other end of the rope. It is my role to decide whether I should tug back, and just how hard. Stress can show me that something is wrong; it can positively move me when I don’t want to be moved. In this moment, cortisol and I have shed our differences for a common understanding.