6. Notice

 

Heart pounding.
Heat rising.
Chest clenching. 
Throat tightening.
Palms sweating.
Skin tingling.
Awkward laughing.

Can I run away? Can I hide? Can I distract myself?

The human stress response is quite a phenomenon.

Fun fact, my senior year of high school, I visited Cambridge University to interview for their Biomedical Science undergraduate program. In preparation, I read Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers by Robert M. Sapolsky, which talks about how chronic stress is detrimental for human health. Ironically, interviewing with four Cambridge professors was among the most stressful moments of my life. As I like to say, I was shitting my pants.

Though I (thankfully) didn’t get into Cambridge, I’m grateful the experience led me to this idea:

This is the critical point of this book: if you are that zebra running for your life, or that lion sprinting for your meal, your body's physiological response mechanisms are superbly adapted for dealing with such short-term physical emergencies. For the vast majority of beasts on this planet, stress is about a short-term crisis, after which it's either over with or you're over with. When we sit around and worry about stressful things, we turn on the same physiological responses—but they are potentially a disaster when provoked chronically. A large body of evidence suggests that stress-related disease emerges, predominantly, out of the fact that we so often activate a physiological system that has evolved for responding to acute physical emergencies, but we turn it on for months on end, worrying about mortgages, relationships, and promotions. (Sapolsky, 2004)

Countless triggers in daily life make us feel as though we’re being chased by lions in the savanna. For instance, these are things that activate my stress response, and they’re all far from life-threatening:

  • Running five minutes late to a meeting

  • Another driver beeping their car horn at me

  • Walking into a crowded room where I don’t know anyone

  • Receiving a compliment from a guy in a romantic context

  • Someone asking me to do a British accent

The list is endless, but I’ll spare you from the monotony. Bottom line: fight-or-flight isn’t fun, and it’s often more disruptive than helpful.

What if there was a way to alleviate stress in the moment? Beyond just taking a deep breath.

Thanks to my therapist, for the past week or so, I’ve been trying something new: noticing. Here’s how it works:

I’m getting anxious, nervous, stressed, overwhelmed.

Pause.
Be present.
Notice.

What’s happening in my body?

Heart pounding.
Heat rising.
Chest clenching. 
Throat tightening.
Palms sweating.
Skin tingling.
Awkward laughing.

That’s interesting.

By the time I’ve scanned my body, I can usually feel the energy dissipate. Of course, being consciously present enough to observe the stress response as it’s happening is a challenge. It takes practice. But when I manage to become a nonjudgemental observer of my own experience, I’m able to detach and see my stress response with curiosity and compassion. Simply noticing and naming the specific physical reactions that arise diminishes their hold over me.

Rather than get carried away with the tide, I want to float above the ocean of my internal world, calming the seas below.

 
Pei-Ling LeeTherapy