It’s Fall 2013.

I’m in New York City.

I’m a second-year litigation associate at the highest-grossing, top-tier, Big Law firm.

And I’m on a work trip from our DC office, to second chair my first deposition.

If you’re not familiar with a deposition, it’s the epitome of litigiousness. Two sides sitting across from each other in fancy conference rooms with cans of Diet Coke and catered sandwich lunches and mountains of cardboard boxes filled with intimidating and overwhelming amounts of paper documents — “discovery.” (Or at least, this is what it looked like pre-2020. Now, I’m sure, it’s all digital and in the Zoom room)

In a situation like this, adrenaline is flowing and billions of dollars of exposure are likely on the line.

No big deal, right?

I also happen to find out on this particularly high-stress day that my then-boyfriend is cheating on me.

I keep it cooly professional all day long. And at the end of the deposition, I’m somehow both exhausted and buzzing —with adrenaline and emotions — like I’ve had way too much coffee (which I probably have).

So I walk right out of that midtown -Manhattan high-rise office building, not to the train station for my scheduled train.

But right into Saks Fifth Avenue.

Within 5 minutes, I’ve spent several thousand dollars on a Louis Vuitton purse.

Yes, a purse.

Well, more of a “bag.” (A “work bag!” I immediately begin to justify.)

I’M EQUAL PARTS “YES! THIS REVENGE SPLURGE FEELS AMAZING! I DESERVE THIS!”

AND …

INSTANT REGRET.

Thinking to myself, “Gosh, American Express should really have a stress spending alert (like a fraud alert, but it’s YOU!) where, when you make a wildly arbitrary and wildly expensive purchase of a luxury consumer product, AmEx texts you:

“IS THIS ADDING VALUE TO YOUR LIFE?”

Maybe even…

“Shouldn’t you just talk to a friend or go to yoga instead?”

And that’s the thing about stress coping mechanisms.

All of them give you that quick hit of dopamine or distraction or ability to tune out or glaze over or go numb.

They do the job in the short run.

But many of them (especially of the stress splurge spending variety) don’t do a damn thing to help us actually understand our stress, learn to recognize its triggers, integrate its effects on our bodies, and help bring us back to equilibrium (or make better decisions in the future).

Many of them actually make us feel worse the next morning. (I’m looking at you too many glasses of wine at “happy hour.")

Comfort seeking is such a natural impulse.

Especially when we meet our edge.

You know.

Those moments where it feels like the rug has been pulled out from underneath us. Or we've just had it up to here, and we're set off or we shut down over something, in the scheme of things, that's pretty small. Or there's some sense of not-right-ness we can't quite name or figure out how to change.

That place from which we reach for something, anything, that makes us feel better.

We all have our go-tos don't we?

For me, it's usually crashing into Netflix and the couch at the end of yet another groundhog day. Or reaching for my phone every time I get that itch.

The next time you find yourself reaching for that thing yet again — try asking instead: is this adding value to my life? 

LEAVE A COMMENT: What’s your go-to stress coping mechanism? and does it add value to your life?

And, of course, this is why we meditate. Let’s continue on. New day, same choice.
Cath

DAY 11’S “ONE-AND-A-HALF-MINUTE THING” (15 MIN)

OR

DAY 12’S “3 SIMPLE STEPS” (15 MIN)

DAY 14: QUIET EVENING WIND DOWN PRACTICE (19 MIN)