Friday morning stillness blanketed the house while I typed away at my desk. The weariness weighing down my mind and the physical fatigue I felt were reflected in the heaviness of the persistent raindrops and low-lying cloud outside my bedroom window. Living in the heart of the valley is beautiful when the sun is reflecting off mountains so close you sense you could brush their treetops with your fingertips. It is a glorious place to be when snow is seen creeping down towering peaks in the cool of fall mornings, dusting the tops of foothills as a prelude to winter. But when the rain settles in the valley, it really settles. Clouds press in upon our little town so tightly you can't help but feel claustrophobic. On this morning I could feel the grayness of the outside atmosphere covering more than mountains and sky. It was pulling a veil over my mood, amplifying the restless state a busy week and stressful month had imposed upon my heart. Though hours of work lay ahead of me, my motivation was rapidly evaporating (unlike the precipitation that increased its intensity as the minutes wore on).
While I struggled to recover my normally strong inclination towards productivity, I found myself wrestling with the core emotion that was being exacerbated by the weather, a mild case of sleep deprivation, and Friday morning listlessness.
That emotion was helplessness.
Having walked hand in hand with anxiety and failed to meet the high stakes demands of perfectionism in many seasons of my life, helplessness was not an unexpected visitor. Although at times we have fallen out of touch or chosen to sidestep unpleasant encounters, helplessness and I have become regular companions of late. No doubt this is in part due to the constantly evolving state of reality I have found myself learning to ponder, evaluate, and respond to over the past eighteen months.
Helplessness can be a dangerously overwhelming emotion. It signals a loss of control and an inability to change our circumstances, which is an extremely frightening prospect for most people. Even for those of us who have experienced the grace of faith, who are blessed with the experiential knowledge that a loving and merciful God is taking care of the details and has a plan to prosper and not to harm us (Jeremiah 29:11), the natural human desire for the ability to affect our circumstances and their outcomes often threatens our peace. This is particularly true when multiple illusions of control are dismantled simultaneously, or when the scale of our helplessness reaches seemingly insurmountable proportions.
On this particular Friday morning, I was grateful for the inspiration to put into action a principle I had learned when facing waves of helplessness that had precipitated anxiety in my past. The principle is simply this: do something. Something small. Something simple, but meaningful and impactful. Take action in some area of your life over which you have immediate influence. Make a positive change somewhere, somehow. At this point in the story, I turned my chair away from an overflowing email inbox and regenerating to-do list and faced a set of sheer-covered curtains with determination.
It was time to reorganize my closet.
Swiftly parting curtains that revealed a chaotic scene, I set to work pulling out summer dresses and lightweight shawls, rearranging hangers, and sorting my garments by colour and function. I created a pile of items to move into my wardrobe box downstairs, where I was currently storing warmer clothing that was preparing for its seasonal debut. I removed performance gowns hanging in garment bags that had been untouched for more than two years. The gaps left behind openly invited the new sweaters and knits that were waiting to be washed so they could set to the task of providing cozy warmth throughout the winter months.
The entire endeavor took all of 10 or 15 minutes, but by the end I knew I had accomplished my expected goal. The burden weighing on my shoulders had lightened. I was ready for action; buoyed by feelings of confidence and self-satisfaction, I was more prepared to tackle the day’s unknown tasks. The world outside had not changed, but the vista in my mind had. Shortly before, this landscape had posed itself as an unchangeable, boreal wilderness of ominous uncertainty. It was now transforming into an inviting garden I could nurture and care for one small seedling at a time. I might not be able to solve every problem I encountered or help every person I communicated with that day. And I certainly had no hope of turning the tides of the culture or regaining lost time (just two examples of many existential concerns my mind feeds on unnecessarily). But I could do this one small thing. This simple, achievable task. This act that would bring order and peace to a not-so-insignificant corner (or wall) of my existence.
I could water a seedling. I could commit to an action that would bring life and produce the fruits of peace and joy in my heart in that moment, and in the many moments when I would pull back my sheer-covered curtains in days to come.
I could organize my closet.
What notable benefit was received by completing this task, you may ask? Why might this exercise or a similar one be worth experimenting with in your own life when helplessness threatens to overwhelm you?
1. It helped me to recognize that I was not as completely useless as I felt in the moments when I allowed myself to contemplate all the circumstances in my life I could not alter. It forced me to acknowledge that I could make positive change and take initiative - just in different ways than I might have desired or expected. It gave me the confidence that I could, in fact, do something.
2. It bolstered my motivation and productivity. For me, cleaning and organizing often has this effect. So does taking walks or getting exercise. In my experience, when I am feeling despondent or lacking in energy, there's no cure like getting my body moving or putting my mind to a task where I can see visible improvement in a relatively short period of time. It's often the first move that is the hardest. But once we get started, momentum is easier to build. A positive outlook is also more easily achieved after we have acted in a way that we perceive as having a desirable effect on our bodies, minds, souls, and environment.
3. It brought a sense of order and peace to my disordered and chaotic mental state. It lowered my stress-levels just enough that I felt the sea of emails I had to wade through and the long-term problems I felt the need to solve were manageable. Enjoyable? Not always. But manageable? Yes. All I had to do was look at them one at a time, fitting pieces together and making committed and instinctive decisions the way I had while sorting through my clothing.
The next time you feel the clouds of helplessness pressing in upon you and threatening to swallow up your motivation, self-confidence, and hope, try asking yourself this question: what seedling can I water in this moment? There are many circumstances in our lives we cannot change, but there is always some action we can take, some small task we can accomplish, some virtue we can nurture, that will benefit ourselves or others. The seedlings we choose to water will grow and produce fruit. They provide small opportunities for impactful change. May God grant us the wisdom to know where these opportunities lie, and when he is calling us to take advantage of them.
“If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed just one.” - St. Mother Teresa of Calcutta
“I am not capable of doing big things, but I want to do everything, even the smallest things, for the greater glory of God.” - t. Dominic Savio
"Remember that nothing is small in the eyes of God. Do all that you do with love." - St. Thérèse of Lisieux
Comments