Sitting with Nerves

So when I began this post, I was just returning from a three-day teacher convention in Pittsburgh, and it was a wonderful experience. However, when I woke up on the day I’d be traveling to the Steel City, I woke up feeling so nervous. It was the type of anxiety that I could feel in my body. I’m sure you know it, too - a little queasy, almost shaking.

I found myself in a bit of a conundrum, worrying if I’d forgotten a critical detail in my preparations and then questioning if I’d made a wrong decision in agreeing to go. While sitting in this panic, I was struck with the idea that it’s okay to feel nervous without having to do anything about it.

Feeling nervous doesn’t constitute a diagnosis or a drastic change.

Feeling nervous is part of life, but I worry that, as a society, we’re growing more and more incapable of simply sitting in those worries.

In a quick-fix, instant gratification kind of world, we're eager to just "do away with" thoughts and emotions that are less than comfortable. Parents go to great lengths to avoid even the possibility that their kids will feel anything other than happiness and contentment. Of course, as outsiders, it's easy to see the error in this way of living, but when we're in it, we're completely unaware. Our desire for comfort robs us of joy. It robs us of meaningful living.

Take my trip to Pittsburgh for example. I was CRIPPLED by my nerves, the unknowns that come with a full week away from my family, with colleagues I hardly knew, in a place I'd never been. But if I'd not gone, I would've missed out on an amazing opportunity. I completely filled ample pages of my notebook with things I learned at the conference. I got to try new restaurants and explore a new city, while establishing solid relationships with colleagues in a way I never could at a simple one-day training at home.

Waaaay back in high school, Ben and I were talking about an upcoming game or tournament he had. He mentioned feeling nervous, and I told him I was sorry and that he'd do great. He, the wise soul he's always been, assured me that nerves are a good thing; they mean what you're doing is important. Knowing him, he's completely forgotten ever telling me that, but it rings true in everything.

Powering through feeling nervous is invaluable. It helps us to appreciate the mundane and predictable. Coming back from my trip, I was so excited for a normal workday morning with my family, which probably wouldn't have been the case on a typical week. Powering through also helps us be better equipped to handle nerve-wracking or anxious experiences in the future. Being unafraid of sharing vulnerably when we're uncomfortable can help us to grow closer with people around us. My sister once commented on how when I'm nervous, I say every single thought aloud. This habit (I'm told) is frightening as a passenger when I'm anxiously navigating the winding mountain roads of Montana, but it's been transformative when I'm in a new group of people. As soon as I've named those nervous feelings to the group, we somehow grow closer, with others sharing some of their more vulnerable thoughts/feelings, too.

I just think it's okay to be nervous. There's nothing wrong with feeling unsettled and uncomfortable. It, like happiness, anger, and sadness, won't last forever. But we need to be intentional. We need to continue to seek experiences that make us nervous. Without them, our lives would be less. Less joyful. Less memorable. Less rich.

-J