The Question I Ask Before I Call Something "Stress"

A client used to come in every few weeks with the same knot between her shoulder blades.  Same spot, every time.  And every time, she'd say some version of the same thing: "I don't know why I'm so stressed, nothing's really wrong."

Here's what I started asking her instead: stressed about what, exactly — growing into something, or holding up something?

It took her a minute.  But the answer mattered, because those two kinds of pressure feel almost identical in the body and mean almost opposite things.

Growing-pressure shows up when you're stretching past what's familiar — a harder conversation you're finally having, a boundary you're finally holding, a version of yourself you're finally stepping into.  It's uncomfortable, but it's moving you somewhere.  Enduring-pressure is different.  It's the weight of a pattern that stopped serving you a long time ago and never got renegotiated — a job, a role, a relationship, a pace of life you agreed to once and never revisited.  It doesn't move you anywhere.  It just sits on your shoulders, month after month, until your body starts keeping score.

Layla Saad calls stress a teacher — one that can guide us toward self-awareness and self-compassion, if we actually stop and ask what it's teaching.  Most of us skip that step.  We just call it all "stress," lump it together, and push through, because pushing through is the only response we were ever taught.

So here's the question, next time you feel that familiar tightness rise: is this growth, or is this something I've been enduring?  You don't have to answer it right away.  Just asking it honestly is usually enough to loosen something.

I've found this question is almost always easier to answer outside than at a desk — there's something about real ground and real air that cuts through the noise.  Which is exactly why this month's practice has a place to land off the page.

Palmer Trail Hike — Saturday, August 22, 7:00 AM. We'll walk, pause a few times for a short guided check-in, and sit with this question together, out where it's easier to hear the answer. $15 for non-members, free for the Circle.

[Reserve your spot →]

And one more thing for your calendar: September 18, we're gathering again for something completely different — an evening of painting and planting at Hapke's Hortum to welcome the autumn equinox.  More soon.