If we’re trying to get more physically fit, there are a few ways that we measure our progress.
The scale.
We weigh ourselves to watch that number go down. Every decrease tells us we’re on the right path. We’re doing the right things.
Our clothing size.
Another number we watch to see it decrease. Even though we know that clothing sizes are arbitrary, it still gives us a boost to have to go out and buy new stuff because the only stuff is too big now.
Reps and activity.
This is where more is more. Can we do more reps? Can we run farther? Can we climb higher? Can we move faster? We want to be able to do more, and every time we can push our capabilities, we feel more powerful. We can see that we are more fit than we were before.
How can we measure progress on our emotional fitness? Affirmations, positive self-talk, counseling, therapy, medications, meditation… These are ways that we work on our emotional health and stability. Finding the right combination is a very personal thing.
How do we know when we’ve got it right? How do we know that we’re more fit than we used to be?
There is no scale for emotional fitness that we can step on and see how many emotional pounds we’re carrying around. You can be assessed by a professional if you work with one, but that’s not always an exact answer as we’d prefer.
There’s no clothing size for our brain, our heart. We may cover ourselves with blankets and fuzzy socks and hoodies when we’re feeling out of control, but their size is irrelevant.
The real key is in our ability to handle things. Our reps and emotional stamina. This is where we can see the greatest impact of the hard work we are putting in.
What does that mean anyway?
People call it lots of things. Emotional stamina. Emotional reserves. Resilience.
Basically, how stable am I when things go wrong? It should be easy to be strong when everything is going right. But that’s where instability will manufacture things to be worried about.
I used to be fairly emotionally unstable. My insecurities and anxiety ran very deep. They still do in some ways. Any hint of criticism was a mortal blow. I worried incessantly about what I was doing and whether it was the right thing to do. Decisions were a constant drain, even minor ones. If anything went even a little bit wrong, I was on a depressive spiral like it was the best ride at the fair and it was free. Every bump in the road was a crisis, which meant the actually serious problems might as well have been acts of a higher power. I would have full-on panic attacks.
To deal with this instability, I compartmentalized in order to get things done. I’m a very practical person as well so dealing with situations was important to me regardless of the emotional toll.
The work is hard.
It’s hard because I’m facing myself. I have to have compassion for the torment I am putting myself through, so I can see to the underlying emotions driving it. I have to be willing to look at myself and see the truth, not what I want to see.
It’s not always a pretty sight.
It’s difficult to let go of guilt and shame over things I’ve said or done to myself or others.
Getting help from a counselor, therapist, psychologist, or psychiatrist may be a necessary part of that work. Our society still stigmatizes this, but it can be life-changing. I’ve seen several counselors over the years and it has been a benefit every time.
But how do you know if it’s working?
The proof, as they say, is often in the pudding. Meaning, you experience the proof as it’s happening to you, as you’re living a more emotionally stable and resilient life.
I took a video of myself dancing and sent it to a friend. I watched it myself and thought that I looked adorable and alive and like I was having fun. I would never have done this before, trapped by hatred for my body.
I’m applying for more jobs and actively pitching for my freelance business. I have more confidence in my skills and less trepidation about hitting the <send> button on those emails.
I hear criticism and I’m able to let go of the initial emotional reaction and see the help being offered. I’m grateful that someone took the time to offer it to me.
I travel alone in my converted van, relying on myself in ways I would never have been able to do before. I’m less scared of the unknown because I have more confidence in my own skills.
I have less anxiety and panic less when things go wrong.
I compare myself to others less in a negative way. Instead, I find myself motivated by their success to work harder.
I can separate myself from emotions like jealousy to see the fear and insecurity underneath instead of being swept up in them.
My emotional reserves go farther now. I can deal with things that would have overwhelmed me before. I can be more present for others without feeling like I’m being drained dry. I can rely on myself to handle things more instead of latching onto someone else to reassure me.
Like a growing physical ability tells me that my body is more fit, my growing feeling of balance and calm tells me that my mind and emotions are more stable.
This, in turn, motivates me to keep going. To keep doing the work. To support others to do their own work, to find the combination of techniques that works for them.
What is your emotional work strategy? Is it working for you?
If it’s not, don’t give up. Just adjust your path. I believe in you.
