what she was talking about went well beyond simply stepping up and getting through a rough patch — or a bunch of them. she was looking for answers on how to insulate herself from the collateral damage that stems from a crisis — not only the emotional impact (sadness, grief, hopelessness, anxiety) — but also the stress, fatigue, the effect on relationships and the time it takes away from other responsibilities, like children, work, our own health, all that tough times steal and manipulate. what she was talking about was how to create a buffer between herself and the bad stuff, so she wasn’t left paying the price — at least not full price — of when bad things happen. what she wanted to know was how to avoid the toll.
it was a tough question, for sure. part of the quandary is rooted in the fact that, unfortunately, no matter how many times something bad happens, managing it doesn’t get easier. (wouldn’t that be nice?) you may be familiar with the steps to take — what doctor to call, what meals to leave on the porch, what words to say — but every single time, crises, bad news, and loss deliver a very reliable one-two emotional and mental punch. every time.
so if we know that, it makes sense to prepare then, no? when it’s peaceful, calm, and there’s not a crisis in sight, perhaps after we take that deep breath and marvel at the fact that we’ve even made it this far, we should also take a moment to refill our tanks, reposition the fight gloves tightly up around our ears, and make sure our feet are planted firmly on the ground so they can’t be shaken or shifted — just in case.