Navigating Life's Ups and Downs: Strategies for Managing Stressful Times

Decisions, decisions

“Nothing’s wasted in God’s economy.” These five powerful words were shared countless times by Jim W. A lean man, always well-dressed, he sat in the same blue chair each 12-step meeting, legs crossed, a contemplative look permanently etched on his aging face.

I was reminded of this phrase today when a similar sentiment emerged from the text of my daily reading in The Pivot Year by Brianna Weist. “Traces of the future line the history of your life,” she wrote, and ended the short passage saying no experience is wasted.

This past week brought too many experiences. Every situation vied for top billing in this week’s newsletter.

Do I share about the woes of watching my husband mourn his trusty steed? It turned out that Falcor, the horse we acquired less than two years ago, had far more than allergies belaboring his breathing.

Tied up at work, I couldn’t be by Ryan’s side as he said goodbye to the horse who helped reignite a passion so deep that he’s attending the Reno Rodeo Cattle Drive next year. His resilience in the arena is admirable.

Do I celebrate being under contract on our Hamilton property? The stress of real estate negotiation is certainly a worthwhile life lesson, the excruciating tension of the waiting game a test of anyone’s patience.

We sacrificed a wee bit on price, but gain back a priceless amount of physical and financial freedom. Eighteen days and counting.

Do I pat myself on the back for navigating what I thought was going to be a friendly conversation but instead turned out to be a barrage of critical feedback from a day job client? I never expected him to lean so hard on us, but I countered every judgmental statement with sound truths and a sense of partnership.

I’m pretty sure I sucked in a small fly during a sharp inhale, but the conviction in my voice never missed a beat. I was later described by a coworker as a “badass”, the title to which I aspire as I enter my Crone era. Maybe on my lazy Sunday, I’ll rewatch Fried Green Tomatoes. In the immortal words of Kathy Bates, “I’m older, and I have more insurance.”

This thing called life

I could throw out colloquialisms about making lemonade, throwing curveballs, closing doors, or writing new chapters; any would accurately describe the recent weeks of my life. In a vulnerable moment with my boss, I shed a few tears after she asked how I was doing (the motherly, concerned, deeper “no really, how are you doing? kind of inquiry). I promised her that I wasn't sad, just stressed, and caught off guard by the compassion because I'm usually the one doling it out.

Nothing is wasted: not the emotions that ran high in tense conversations with friends, not the pain and anguish of loss, not the tiny, courageous victories on days that otherwise felt like a slog. I learn, I grow, I deepen my roots, all while knowing that this too shall pass.