A zero waste approach to processing tough experiences.
Think about the most difficult thing you’ve done. Was it worth it?
Was it worth the strife? The time, energy, and pain? Would you do it again knowing what you know now? Was the perseverance you exhibited worth the sacrifice it required?
All of what you put into doing that difficult thing you did, looking back today, do you think it was worth the trouble?
When I asked myself this same question after taking a large emotional risk and dealing with the consequences of its failure, I realized I wasn’t going to give myself too many answer choices.
There was no “we’ll see” or no “maybe not” or “not really.” The answer is and always had to be “I’ll make it be”.
I had to ensure that the experience, the feeling, and the tears, weren’t for naught. I had to ensure that ain’t nothin round here was wasted. REUSE. RECYCLE. I had to turn those feelings into something else. Use it as fuel for something else.
You know, I’m something of a reflective girly myself. I’ve gotten pretty good, I’d say, at using a three-step approach to processing my experiences so I can learn from them and use those lessons to live a better, more emotionally resilient life.
Whether it’s embarrassment or victory, heartache or butterflies, pain or relief, whatever you are experiencing, the very first step is to experience it fully. Allow it to wash over you — not overtake you — so that you experience it all, completely. That is what life is about. The ability to feel and experience both the most mundane and fantastical elements of the human experience.
It dawned upon me through tears how lucky I was to be able to grieve; how blessed I was to have something to grieve. Yes, I had lost something, but that means that at some point I had it. And the duality between mourning the loss and celebrating its existence was a complex, but comforting place to sit for a while. That realization would’ve never hit me had I not allowed myself the time and space to sit there and fully experience what was happening. If I had checked out, rejected reality, embraced delusion, I would’ve missed out on such a beautiful opportunity to learn, remember, and celebrate.
When you are ready, and with the support of a friend, therapist, or just a good album, you’ve got to take the time to debrief what happened. You have to take the time to reflect on your actions, what occurred, and grapple with the many or few moving parts going on in your situation. My suggestion is to always put it down on paper because everything makes more sense, at least to me, in black and white.
Use this step to flush out everything. Every pattern, every behavior, every moment, everything you can think of that could possibly turn into a lesson you can extract later. Be generous, as there are lessons hidden in what initially may appear to be insignificant details. And it’s okay if you don’t get everything in one go. Memories and lessons may reveal themselves as time passes.
A real old mining technique is called panning. And folks would literally use a pan and a specific set of movements to separate the gold from the dirt, dust, and debris. Same thing here.
There may be a lot of dirt, dust, and debris in the experience you’re having, but that doesn’t mean you throw the whole thing away. The gold is the lessons, and no matter what kind of experience you’re having, I know for a fact there’s at least one lesson you can gather from it. Look at the debrief, really look hard, because if you aren’t focused or intentional about reflecting, you’ll miss it. If you’re focused on wallowing in the pain, finding where to place blame or where to get your lick back, you’ll miss what’s there to see. Look at the debrief and find your gold, dear. It’s much better than leaving the experience all dirty and tired with nothing to show for it, I assure you.
If we’re lucky, we’re all going to continue to live long lives full of new experiences, both positive, negative, and neutral. If we’re committed to making the most of those experiences, we’re all going to continue to learn and gain insights that will fuel us for the rest of our days.
Cheers to full lives, open minds, and full hearts.
No hard heads round here babyyyy.
Thalia, 24, is no professional miner, but she is still very much your local hopeless romantic and tireless adventurer who, to your relief, I’m sure, has not yet grown weary of stretching beyond the confines of her present to experience the beauty of tomorrow.
