For most anyone who has ever flown commercially, you probably have experienced a particular phenomenon, as well expressed recently by a friend of mine as we were described trips that we had just taken. From the point at which you check-in for the flight the previous day, to the point at which you arrive in the airport, going through security and then waiting in the terminal for boarding to start, all the way to sitting on the plane on the way to taxiing out to the runway, there is this feeling that you are almost holding your breath until the moment the plane rises up in the sky and you can feel the landing gear folding up underneath the seats.
Throughout this entire process, there is one abiding fear, which is that one of a seemingly infinite number of things may go awry, and the flight will not only be delayed, but cancelled altogether, leaving you stranded in the airport for hours even days. Just months prior to writing this, I found myself stuck at the Dallas airport for almost 12 hours when multiple flights were cancelled while no less than four times being bumped to different terminals, only to find out that I had no chance to reach my final destination (Albuquerque) until the following evening, over 36 hours later than originally scheduled. Fortunate that there was a late flight back home, I returned to Evansville just before midnight, disappointed that I had missed the conference, but relieved to be back home.
Many of us have been in a similar situation, and while flying can really heighten our feeling that uncontrollable factors may derail what we desire, it’s not unlike what happens so often in life. Whether it is a big test coming up, an impending job change or a baby being born, or whether it is one of countless typical engagements on our calendar, the idea of anxious anticipation is a super common phenomenon. If you are like me, countless circumstances can make us feel like we are holding our breath, just hoping to hoping to reach a finality. Hence, whether we are just “coming up for air” (in breaking from an extended challenge) or “breathing a sigh of relief” when all is finally done, our vernacular well represents the human experience as it has probably always been.
Still, just because it a ubiquitous phenomenon doesn’t mean it is a particularly healthy, or even formative one, especially if it repeatedly occurs in situations whereby which circumstances work out fine or whereby the risk—of any kind—is little or none at all. But even beyond this, having especially noticed this in my own life, it seems that maybe even a bigger detriment than the strife and stress that this phenomenon can cause is the loss of countless opportunities for joy and peace when our breath is at bay. Said another way, in the minutes, hours, and days (or more) between the onset of a stressor (good or bad) and the final exhalation lies an incredible amount of living if you consider this over a lifespan. Consider that with so much time and focus lost in worrying about what may come, what is inherently lost or diminished are the moments that are now. These present moments have much potential for peace, promise, and/or joy, but because they are shrouded by the worry that we feel, it is unlikely that we will experience them to a fullness that we desire.
Again, this is such a common human experience that I daresay we might rarely question whether there is a more desirable way to manage these anxious periods of anticipation. But one of the things that I have noticed which seems to make a significant improvement involves our distinct and intentional focus on recognizing the discreteness in what otherwise might feel like a continuous block of time, in which we are being swept into a sea of our anxiety.
Let’s take a lead-in to a surgery that is coming up next week. While it is completely normal and healthy to feel a certain degree of anxiety about what may happen, the question is just what do you do with all the time that precedes this. While people might take differing surface approaches to managing this waiting period, chances are that what you do externally is not going to be as important as how you manage it internally. Even the most fun activities might fail to evoke desired pleasure if our minds can’t stop thinking about the discomfort and uncertainty that lies ahead. And while for most surgery (fortunately) isn’t a frequent occurrence, the internal approach to manage this most likely mirrors the same anticipatory response that will occur for something as mundane, and yet still stressful, as an administrative meeting on Thursday morning at work.
It is during these times of anticipation that I have found that harnessing the discreteness of so many moments that exist, whether it be a few quiet seconds sitting at a stoplight, a walk across campus, or a pleasant interaction at home, has a undeniable way of not only disconnecting the anxious tether that exists, but also creating pockets of sanctity and peace from what an unsettled perspective appears to be an unbroken line of stress. Yet within these distinct moments, there is a critical component that transforms these entities into not just possibility, but even a greater resolve that even in the darkest moments to come, there is always peace to be found. It is gratitude.
As the purest antidote to anxiety, moments of intentional gratitude, even if it is hard to summon the emotion desired to feel thankful, solidifies these discrete moments into places of purpose, and spaces by which the relativity of time becomes almost palpable. With palpable comes a rising, acute understanding that what might have seemed overwhelming at first (or second) glance is now manageable in the adventure we call life. Difficult yes, painful maybe, undesirable for sure, but certainly not something to despair about in a way that vanquishes so many beautiful moments that lie in wait, if only we are present enough to claim them.
It is in this process done repeatedly that life carries on, slow enough to savor the goodness and quick enough to find ourselves at home on a quiet Friday evening, reflecting on just how we made it through another week despite the worries otherwise. Just like a sunrise breaking through a seeming impenetrable wilderness, so the week that passed was full of sparkling rays that might have otherwise been hidden if not for our intentional graciousness in seeing the varied, stately trees that made up this vast forest of our lives.
