$pent Millennial

Dear Reader,

What are you letting build up inside you?

This past week, I went to get my COVID and flu vaccines. As I waited in line, I found myself behind a young girl and—who I assume—was her dad. The girl was beside herself with anxiety over the shots. I watched as she cycled through what felt like the stages of grief:

First, denial — “I’m not getting my shots.”

Then, negotiation — “I have to get two shots? Can they just put both into one?”

I liked the way this girl thought. 

But the one that really got me—the one that hit deep—was when she said, “I wish I had already gotten my shots, and then I could be done.”

I felt that.

Not just because I was standing there wishing I, too, was already done with my shots. But because that wish—to already be past the hard part—is something I know well.

How many times have I stood on the edge of something uncomfortable—a difficult conversation, a big presentation, a career decision—and found myself wishing I could just skip to the part where it’s over?

To the part where the lesson’s been learned, the outcome’s decided, the sting’s behind me?

As I sat in the chair, trying to model calmness for that little girl—showing how quick and not-so-bad it really was—I wanted to tell her that truth: that the build-up is almost always worse than the moment itself.

But it wasn’t my place.

And even if it had been, she probably couldn’t have heard it anyway.

She was already lost in the swirl. 

And honestly, I know that swirl well. 

Because I do this with far more than vaccines. 

I do it with new opportunities, with things I’ve never done before, with moments I can’t control.

And my favorite, silly example is bees. 

Yes, I do it with bees. When I hear that buzz or see one circling, you would think I was under a personal nuclear attack. The fear of potentially getting stung hits so much harder than the actual sting would ever feel. 

Whether it is a “big important” moment, a new opportunity, or a potential bee sting, I let the anticipation of discomfort take more energy than the discomfort itself ever would.

And that, I think, is the cost of overthinking: we spend so much of ourselves on the build-up.

On the what ifs.

On the stories we tell ourselves before life has even had a chance to tell its own.

So whatever you’ve been bracing for—whatever you’ve been building up in your mind—I hope you find a small breath of ease today.

Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.

Maybe it’s just a moment, waiting to pass through you.

Maybe it’s already on its way to being done.

Whatever it is, I hope you take the peace of mind to be mindful in the moments leading up to it, to put it into perspective, and know that this, too, shall pass. And you will come out on the other side. 

Thank you for taking a mindful pause with me today—to notice the build-ups, and the places where we can choose peace instead of panic.

Until next week- take care and be well,

Everett

P.S. I want to hold space for the fact that there is a lot to be -rightfully- anxious about right now. Times are uncertain, and the uncertainty and instability are having real impacts on people. That is real. 

Here, I am reflecting on the smaller moments that take up outsized space and thinking about how often I spend energy the way I used to spend money—on things that don’t really serve me, without noticing how much it’s costing. So, this week, I’m practicing being a little more mindful of where it all goes.