Stress Management

Anybody else feel daunted thinking about stress managment lately? [wide eyed emoji]

It’s November of the hardest year in my recent professional memory, and the escalating stress levels I witness every day show no signs of abating. My patients are sleeping poorly, gaining weight, and their blood pressure continues to rise. They miss quality time with loved ones and rethink their life paths more seriously now than ever. Strangers on the street seem increasingly confrontational. The world is once again embroiled in war and violence. Our stress management skills are called forth, no question.

I attended the second ever Harvard Medical School coaching conference in the spring of 2009, where I met Benjamin Zander and The Art of Possibility became my personal development bible. Roz Zander, co-author, former wife, and decades long collaborator to Ben Zander, died suddenly this year. I hope my writing and impact may honor her, as these 14 years of my inner and outer work, sparked by the Zanders at that meeting, made me a better person that I would otherwise have been, founded on the practices in their book.

**Deep breath**

It’s been at least a decade, and I still ask patients to assess work stress in terms of threat and challenge. Threat stress–basically fight or flight–is physiologically taxing, meant to last seconds (not years), and costs us our health if prolonged. Challenge stress is activating, productive, and beneficial. I also query about personal fulfillment from work–meaning. We can tolerate very high levels of stress, even prolonged threat, if it’s worth it to us.

Parenting may be a better example than work. When we fear for our children’s well being, and even their lives in crises, how do we manage that? Is there any worse threat? We’d all rather it be ourselves suffering than our kids, right? How do we cope when we have no control?

At the risk of sounding arrogant, I feel very confident in my stress management skills. This is not to say I don’t experience severe stress or feel its consequences. I just move through it much more easily and with a lot less suffering now than in the past. I feel a lot less threat than challenge. Briefly, the practices:
Breathe. Ever since my first medical assistant posted “TAKE A DEEP BREATH” at my workspace, I have appreciated the calming effect of one deep breath, physically and psychologically. We can breathe ourselves through childbirth, injury, emotional trauma, and myriad other urgent and emergent situations. Deep breathing stimulates the de-escalating parasympathetic (rest and digest) nervous system, balancing the autonomic hijack mediated by the sympathetic system. I breathe along with patients when I listen to their lungs. I inhale deeply when listening to books, and during strenuous exercise. It is my central grounding practice.
Accept. “It is what it is.” This has nothing to do with how I feel about it. But the sooner I separate what is from what I want it to be, the less I suffer. Obviously I find this much easier to do for things I care less about. But even for big things, like the state of our healthcare system, the brokenness of our government, and my estimate of the ultimate demise of humanity (I think five more generations, give or take), just being with what is, as a first step to figuring out what to do next, helps me suffer a lot less.
Withhold judgment. I’m really good now at not jumping to conclusions and not making sweeping judgments about people based on limited information. I am able to separate judgment of actions from people’s character and humanity. If you’re screaming at my team and me, you are clearly unwell. We can hold you accountable to your actions and still show you compassion and respect. I don’t have to think you’re a bad person. This way, I don’t take your negative actions personally, and I can stay calm and even.
Get help. I ask every patient every year about their emotional support network, because it matters. Mine is phenomenal and I could not be more grateful. But I only know they are so because I call on them enough and they on me. Rarely I am disappointed, and I learn to turn elsewhere. I cannot overstate the profound importance of tribe and connection. It is my raison d’etre.
Move. When daughter was admitted to the hospital and I stayed with her there, I made sure to get on the ellipitical each day that week. When I go too many days without movement, I get edgy and stuck in my thoughts. My stress is exponentially more manageable if I protect my workouts, which I have now done for many years.
Attune and differentiate. My greatest stressors involve other people. Friction, tension, grating, colliding, etc. Since my LOH leadership training helped me articulate these complementary concepts, I recognize now that attuning/aligning with others, as well as differentiating and standing firm in my own core values and practices are equally important and fluid in their dynamics. Feeling out that optimal integration in any given interaction is rewarding in itself, and the outcomes are always better when I attend to both, knowing that I am showing up true to myself. What more can I ask of me?

So what could be better? Anything, really. For the rest of my life, new stressors will continually emerge. In his book Master of Change, Brad Stulberg quotes a statistic that in an average adult life, we will experience 34 major disruption events, which works out to about one every 18 months. Sounds about right to me! So I can expect to be challenged and trained in all of these skills and more, usque ad mortem. I only hope I can keep learning, applying, improving, and growing. Bring it.

I feel less harshly about our collective, societal stress management skills and outcomes than I do about our obessions and ironies with exercise and nutrition. Really, I think everybody’s doing the best they can, with the skills they have, in the circumstances of their lives at any given time. I just wish our environments didn’t create and perpetuate so many of our stressors in the first place.

So what’s already good?
Potential. We are all surrounded by one another. So every encounter, any time, any place, is an opportunity to do people-ing better. In any given relationship, if anyone is willing at all, there is always the chance for repair after rupture. Humans are innate learners; we can continually acquire the skills to stop impaling ourselves with the second arrow of suffering, after the arrows of pain hit us in daily life. We can even hold one another up and heal our injuries together.
Books, teachers, resources. Those aisles and shelves of stress management books really are dense, and I can say with conviction from first hand consumption that the knowledge and potential benefit living in those pages is immense. For those with the bandwidth to actively seek, consume, digest, and apply, lives can be transformed, especially if shared, discussed, and practiced together.
–Sometimes it really doesn’t take much. Your friend calls to check on you. A stranger helpsy you carry your groceries. When we say ‘it’s the little things,’ we speak truth. Small acts of kindness and incidental connections will not solve our hardest problems, but we must not underestimate their profound potential to help, and for that help to amplify in unexpectedly large ways. What’s more, both the helper and the helped benefit from the encounter.

What could be better?
–Teach it explicitly. There is a movement afoot among Dialectical Behavior (T)herapists to formally incorporate stress management skills into school curriculum. DBT organizes life skills around four central pillars: Mindfulness, Emotional Regulation, Distress Tolerance, and Interpersonal Effectiveness. Within each module are sets of practices, many with campy acronyms to help us remember. I refer patients to the DBT skills website often, not just to help them cope better themselves, but to help them model better coping skills to their children, direct reports, and leaders. Simply having the confidence that we can handle whatever comes our way, because we know what to do, decreases stress exponentially. What if we learn these skills in childhood, before the chaos of adolescence and serial tumult that is adulting? Can you imagine?
–Relational Leadership Training and Valuation. Leadership done well is a practice in empathic, compassionate, accountable, and transparent stewardship. It is a way of being and doing, one that requires high level self-awareness and self-regulation, and excellent attunement and communication skills. Right now I think leadership training focuses a lot on transactional communication, superficial team dynamics, and not enough on building leaders’ stewardship mindset and deeper relational skills. We should require evidence of these skills for promotion and provide communal support and feedback to strengthen their practice. This would reduce overall stress in organizations by building cultures of empathy, compassion, accountability, and transparency from the top. Workers’ stress, in my observation, stems in large part from toxic cultures set by relationally inept leaders.

So, another plot twist, but maybe not really. My solution to stress management optimization is relationship-centered: first relationship with self, then between self and others, and then between/among those who know us, by way of example setting.

Stress is complex. Its optimal management is a lifelong practice. It’s never too late to start, and no skills practice is too small or wasted.

“The only way out is through. The best way through is together.” I think that applies here.

Thank you, Mr. Zander

Zander Cheng

Dear Mr. Zander, I met you almost 10 years ago and you transformed my life.

You and Ms. Zander gave the keynote address at the second ever Harvard conference on coaching in healthcare.  I was one of only a handful of physicians in attendance.  You discussed the central tenets of your book, The Art of Possibility.  I could not wait to get my copy signed, and you also graciously agreed to a photo.  I have since read and listened to your book at least a dozen times, and every time I gain something new and relevant.  The names of the practices ring in my consciousness on a regular basis:  Give the A, Rule #6, Be a Contribution, Lead From Any Chair, and Be the Board.  I describe the practices and their benefits, still, to anyone who will listen.

Zander book sig

Back in 2015 I boldly contacted the Boston Philharmonic to see if you could speak at the American College of Physicians Illinois Chapter Meeting.  You actually spoke to me on the phone and considered coming!  I was honored.  Though it did not work out (I knew it was the longest of long shots), it amazed me that someone as sought after as you would personally take a phone call from a random, unknown doctor in Chicago.  Later that year, when I attended the Harvard Writers conference (the birthplace of this blog), I had the honor of observing a master class where I witnessed you love some young musicians into their best selves.  They believed in themselves because you saw them, loved them, and believed in them.  That is the best thing any teacher can do for a student.

Throughout these last ten years, I have continued to seek, study, and attempt to apply learnings from authors, teachers, and mentors like you, people who see the world as broken as it is, and also the hope of humanity’s strengths and connections.  There is no shortage of people trying to help us all be better, for ourselves and one another, and no more urgent time or need for this teaching than now.  I count myself beyond fortunate to have benefited from your influence and inspiration so early in my life and career, to have you as my model.  No doubt I am only one of thousands, if not tens (hundreds?) of thousands, whose lives you have transformed for the better.  I wish you an ever broader and higher platform from which to reach countless more people and organizations.  I wish you peace, health, and joy in all your endeavors and relationships.

Please know how much you have meant to so many.

Sincerely,

Catherine Cheng, MD

 

Grudges and Boundaries

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Has someone wronged you recently?  Long ago?  (How) Does it still affect you?  Are you a grudge holder?  Does someone hold a grudge against you?

Last night I gathered with good friends and this topic came up—we go deep, my friends and I.  Of course, it started me thinking and wondering:  What does it mean to hold a grudge?  When I hold a grudge, what do I actually do?  What is the motivation?  What are the consequences?  When/how/why does it resolve, if ever?  As we talked, it felt straight forward at first.  Everybody knows how it feels to hold a grudge—but how do you describe or define it?

Google dictionary defines it:

Grudge: /ɡrəj/

noun

a persistent feeling of ill will or resentment resulting from a past insult or injury.

“she held a grudge against her former boss”

synonyms: grievance, resentment, bitterness, rancor, pique, umbrage, dissatisfaction, disgruntlement, bad feelings, hard feelings, ill feelings, ill will, animosity, antipathy, antagonism, enmity, animus;

informala chip on one’s shoulder

“a former employee with a grudge”

verb

be resentfully unwilling to give, grant, or allow (something).

“he grudged the work and time that the meeting involved”

synonyms: begrudge, resent, feel aggrieved about, be resentful of, mind, object to, take exception to, take umbrage at

“he grudges the time the meetings use up”

 

The more we thought about it the worse it felt to me.  I’m reminded of the saying that hatred hurts the hater more than the hated.  Grudges feel like dark clouds hanging over my consciousness, chilling my soul, or at least casting a cold shadow on my joy, freedom of emotion, and possibility for connection.  My friends and I contemplated the utility of grudge holding.   What good does it do, what need does it meet?  I think it’s protective—a defense mechanism, a way of not being vulnerable again—armor, as I believe Brené Brown would call it.

I asked my friends last night, “So is it holding a grudge, or is it setting a boundary?”  I wondered if they are the same or different.  After all, both make you behave differently toward the other person.  But I think it matters whether and how we judge the other person.  When I hold a grudge, I judge the whole person based on the bad thing (I perceive) they did to me.  I may generalize from my own negative experience and write them off as wholly selfish, ignorant, narcissistic, and unworthy of my compassion and empathy.  Perhaps I start to depersonalize them, make them into an abstraction right in front of my eyes—dehumanize them.  Does that seem like an extreme description?  Even so, doesn’t it still describe the feeling?   When I hold a grudge, I do not—cannot—like or even relate to the person.  I avoid them, don’t want to be in the same room with them.  I don’t trust them.

I listened to The Thin Book of Trust by by Charles Feltman (referenced by Brown in her book Dare to Lead) this past week.  He describes four distinctions of trust:  Sincerity, Reliability, Competence, and Caring.  He suggests that when we find someone else untrustworthy, it’s likely that they have disappointed us in one or more of these elements.  I have assumed for a long time that the person I hold a grudge against simply does not care about me or my well-being.  Feltman suggests that of the four distinctions, this may be the hardest one to overcome when violated.  My story about this person is that they don’t care about me, therefore they are categorically untrustworthy.  So I feel justified in denying the validity of their point of view, minimizing their achievements, and casting them as the permanent villain in my story.

Yuck.  That perspective does not align with my core values.

So what can I do?  Maybe rather than holding a grudge, I can simply reorient myself to our relationship.  Instead of harboring bitterness and ill will, can I instead learn, synthesize, and integrate some new information?  When I’m wronged, maybe I can say, with curiosity more than resentment, “How fascinating!”  Maybe I can take care of my own feelings, connect with people I do trust, and regroup.  Then I can decide how I want to present to this person hereafter.  I can set some new boundaries.

Rather than dismiss the person as uncaring in general and holding this against them, I can do other things.  First, I can withhold judgment on their caring and make a more generous assumption.  For example, I feel un-cared for by them, but perhaps their way of expressing caring is different from how I receive it.  I can look for alternative signs of caring.  Or perhaps they truly don’t care about me, but I need to work with them anyway, so I had better figure out a way to do it—are they at least sincere, reliable, and competent?  How must I attend to myself, so I can honor my core values, get the work done, and not get hurt (or at least minimize the risk)?  Second, I can set clear boundaries in our relationship.  I can point out behaviors that I will not tolerate, and call them out if they happen.  I can set realistic expectations about agendas, objectives, methods, and contact.  I can give honest and direct feedback with concrete examples of words or actions that require attention and remedy.

Many thanks to my thoughtful and engaging friends who stimulate these explorations.  I can feel my grip on the grudge loosening already.