In Case of Emergency, Open File

As a teacher, I am well-versed and well-practiced in emergency management plans. We meet as a faculty at the beginning of every school year and we learn the latest procedures and dialog through possible scenarios. We exit the meeting armed with detailed plans and signs, to be at the ready in case of an emergency. We then drill each plan throughout the year to iron out any problems and ensure that there is some about of automaticity to the procedure in case it actually has to be implemented during a true crisis.

I’m sure many of you have a similar situation at your work – you know what to do and where to go in case of fire, tornado, earthquake or, unfortunately, crazed gunman. You hope to never need those plans (and try to skirt around the thought of any of those events actually occurring), yet their mere presence offers some measure of comfort.

Because when we are in a true emergency, it is difficult to think. To process. When some level of decision has already been made in calmer times, it helps to ensure a basic level of operation in the heat of the moment and frees the mind to tackle the situation at hand.

 

You have emergency plans in case of fire.

Or break-in.

Or zombie apocalypse.

Or maybe even a traffic jam that leaves you unable to get to daycare before closing.

 

But do you have any emergency plans in case of a personal crisis?

A divorce.

A death.

A medical emergency.

A job loss.

Or just a I-can’t-take-it-anymore breakdown of undetermined origin.

 

Maybe you should.

 

We don’t like to think about those events happening. We don’t want to consider tragedy affecting our families. But, as we know, just because you want to think about it happening, doesn’t mean it won’t. And the reality is that al of us will face one or more of the above in our lifetimes.

 

So be prepared.

 

Create your own personal crisis plan while you are not in crisis.

 

Who will you call?

Where will you go?

What do you need to have at the ready?

If it is a protracted situation, what needs to happen to simply carry out daily life while the emergency unfolds?

 

Be specific. Your plan needs to leave no room for doubt in the moment.

Create structure. In crisis, we often need every step spelled out.

Address possibilities. The more thinking you do ahead, the more apt you will be to respond well in the moment.

 

Write it down. Sketch it out. Create a spreadsheet or a diagram.

And then tuck it away in a file, either electronic or tangible.

 

And in case of emergency, open file.

How to Surf a Tsunami

Many of us will face a personal tsunami at some point in our lives. We will be felled by a great wave bringing with it sudden change and loss. Perhaps your tsunami is in the form of the death of a loved one, maybe it is the loss of a job or a way of life or possibly you have lost the health you took for granted. My own tsunami was in the form of an unexpected divorce after being abandoned via a text message.

Regardless of the nature of your abrupt trauma, tsunamis have some common characteristics. By their nature, tsunamis are difficult to predict and even harder to prepare for. You have to face the realization that you cannot control your surroundings. The world that you knew is gone, swept away in a single move. You feel disoriented as you try to navigate this new realm.

Soon after the trauma, it feels like it will be impossible to rebuild. The odds seem insurmountable. The shock and grief permeate everything and make every move a struggle. Restoration after a sudden trauma is not easy, but it is possible. In fact, you can even learn how to surf your tsunami, moving through it with skill and grace.

The following are my healing tips for anyone who has been flattened by a tsunami.

Breathe

The blow of sudden trauma is physical. The body tenses as if anticipating another blow. The breath is the first to suffer; it becomes shallow and rapid behind a breast wrapped tight in a straightjacket of sorrow. Release it. It won’t be easy and it won’t be automatic, at least in the beginning. Set a reminder on your phone or computer to take several deep breaths at least once an hour. As long as the body is anticipating another blow, the mind will be as well. Sometimes it’s easier to train the body and allow the mind to follow.

Read the rest here.

How to Surf a Tsunami

Many of us will face a personal tsunami at some point in our lives. We will be felled by a great wave bringing with it sudden change and loss. Perhaps your tsunami is in the form of the death of a loved one, maybe it is the loss of a job or a way of life or possibly you have lost the health you took for granted. My own tsunami was in the form of an unexpected divorce after being abandoned via a text message.

Regardless of the nature of your abrupt trauma, tsunamis have some common characteristics. By their nature, tsunamis are difficult to predict and even harder to prepare for. You have to face the realization that you cannot control your surroundings. The world that you knew is gone, swept away in a single move. You feel disoriented as you try to navigate this new realm.

Soon after the trauma, it feels like it will be impossible to rebuild. The odds seem insurmountable. The shock and grief permeate everything and make every move a struggle. Restoration after a sudden trauma is not easy, but it is possible. In fact, you can even learn how to surf your tsunami, moving through it with skill and grace.

The following are my healing tips for anyone who has been flattened by a tsunami.

Read the rest on Huffington Post.

Fear in the Driver’s Seat

When tragedies happen, we seek understanding. We want to diagnose and cure. We often try to control our surroundings and the actions of others.

We want to feel safe. It’s a basic need. That desire for security is so primal, so strong, that it can cause us to behave irrationally. I experienced this myself in my teenage years. From my softmore year in high school to my freshman year in college, I had 13 friends or mentors die. I will never forget receiving the news of the final  two. I was in Austin for college when I called a friend back home in San Antonio to see about getting together on an upcoming break. She told me the news about the latest two deaths.

I broke. I simply couldn’t handle any more loss. My reaction? I shrunk my world. I no longer stayed in contact with high school friends. I built walls to keep out new friends. My then-boyfriend (now ex-husband) was the only one that I allowed to stay close. It worked. By shrinking my world, I eliminated the potential for hearing about or being affected by tragedy. The odds were stacked in my favor. After all, I only had one person in my inner circle.

And then there were none. My greatest fear came true; I lost him as well. Surprisingly, I was okay. I realized that my old ways of living in my walled-off world simply guaranteed less happiness at the time and yet provided no guarantee against loss in the future. I grew less afraid. More willing to take risks. I let people get close. Some have stayed, others have moved on. That’s okay. I am figuring out how to live with the natural cycles of growth and decay rather than try to fight against them.

It’s natural to examine your surroundings after a tragedy. To evaluate the weaknesses around you and to shore up any breaches in the hull. That increased security always has a tradeoff, however. It’s up to you to decide if that particular exchange is worth it.

More than a million people die in traffic accidents worldwide each year. We take precautions to keep this from happening. We gladly pay extra for cars with added safety measures, we sacrifice some comfort when we pull the seatbelt around our chests, and we write and enforce laws that limit who can drive and under what conditions they can operate a vehicle. I think we can all agree that these are reasonable measures; they balance security and freedom. Yet, how many of us look at the statistics for traffic fatalities and decide to never enter a car again? Very few. The tradeoff simply isn’t worth it.

It can be scary out there. Recent events have shown us that we cannot assume safety in our theaters, malls, or schools. There can be a temptation to scale back, pull into a shell and seal it shut. Like with me after the deaths, it does tilt the odds in your favor, but it doesn’t eliminate the risk. And, speaking from experience, life behind walls is no way to live.

Fear is an important feeling. It tells us to run when we are being chased. It tells us to seek shelter when we are under attack. It tells us to avoid high and unstable cliffs or dangerous stunts. However, fear also tells us not to love. It whispers avoidance of risk even when those chances can lead to something great. Fear tells you to hunker down and wait rather than live. Listen to your fears. But you don’t have to believe everything they say.

So continue to wear your seatbelt, but don’t neglect to drive your life.

drive

Is It Better to Have Loved and Lost? Yes, Yes, It Is! | Psychology Today

Not So Much to Be Loved as to Love

This article deals with death.  But then, divorce is a type of death, isn’t it?  I think we can all use this reminder sometimes.

Is It Better to Have Loved and Lost? Yes, Yes, It Is! | Psychology Today.