After the climb

How do we return to normal when we’ve been moving mountains?

In one of my favorite online communities, a post by a fellow lawyer mom caught my attention. She recently summited Mt. Kilimanjaro – on International Women’s Day. Describing the pride associated with her accomplishment, she explained, it was as if her prior assessment of the limits of who she could be had radically expanded. It was life-changing. But then, she returned to her day job, in a male-dominated industry within the confines of old standards and limitations, facing a bleak reality that normal life as she knew it had not changed at all.

She started the thread in search of ways to reconcile her superhuman experience with her ordinary human life. And although neither I nor most of my fellow lawyer moms had a direct point of comparison, many could relate. A runner explained that she feels this way after completing marathons. One commenter divulged that she works in mergers and acquisitions, and after dedicating months of her life to a monster deal, she feels lost when it closes. Dedication to a goal and the adrenaline surrounding the experience can be intoxicating, but what follows the euphoria of reaching a peak?

“We don’t always accurately estimate the wake of an intense emotional experience,” says Dr. Joy Lere, licensed clinical psychologist and writer of a beautiful newsletter, Finding Joy. The jarring contrast between an extreme high and your everyday satisfaction calls into question our actual baseline for happiness. “That ‘fall’ speaks to how much humans need challenge,” she says, “but the ‘now what’ reaction is really common and dysregulating.”

My closest brush with these feelings came from a weeklong trip to the Andes in northern Ecuador. I was a senior in the journalism college, bestowed with this huge honor of being selected for the program. But truthfully, I was afraid, completely out of my comfort zone in the sense of placing my safety – and all of my trust – into strangers who I needed a translator to communicate with. It was the purest form of human connection, and the experience was difficult but deeply transformative. When we came home, I sank. I felt emotionally disoriented, like the nonsense I spent four years worrying about was completely insignificant. I was also angry at myself for playing it safe, spending my week with local artisans talking about wool, while braver classmates slept on the floor of a women’s jail. I thought, I squandered it – whatever it was I went there looking for. So I dissociated. I turned away from becoming a journalist and sold myself on a rich notion that my words mattered more as a lawyer. (Narrator: They do not.) That one week changed the trajectory of the next decade of my life.

We climb, in a figurative sense, not only to reach higher. We also climb out of valleys, our own personal pits of trauma and grief. In response to the original post, one woman shared she felt similarly in trying to return to real life after losing her dad. It made her wonder if she’d ever be the same.

Parallels can easily be drawn to the pandemic. The average person has never felt so close to life or death; certainly not for an extended period of time. And yet, despite the adversity, we adapted. We put on our brave faces. When pushed to the margins of our sanity, we held on. And in hindsight, we learned we are capable of more than we ever thought we would be. Many don’t wish to rush that acknowledgment away. This post-climb re-entry from the pandemic is more than a vibe shift – it’s a fundamental repositioning of our purpose.

How do we return to normal when we’ve been moving mountains?

I think it’s understandable for us to want others to know. Motioning through business as usual and the mindless chitter chatter that dominates our day can be intolerable when you’re coming off a climb. How many times have you wanted to scream, “Do you have ANY CLUE?!” I know I am guilty of oversharing with strangers when I am desperate to feel validated. 

But honoring your personal feelings as you compare then and now is most important. “When you have a very individualized experience that only you can appreciate what a big deal it was, you need to hold onto that for yourself and not let other people’s reactions determine how much it meant to you,” explains Dr. Lere. “It’s useful evidence to return to in your mind during hard times and remind yourself, ‘If I could do that, then I can do anything.’” Even though we crave to be seen and valued, not everyone has to fully grasp our journeys in order for them to matter.

Our resilience doesn’t stem from how others perceive what we’ve been through, but from what we choose to take from it. Whether a challenge is acute or prolonged, strengthening takes place in the aftermath. Dr. Lere likens this to going to the gym and coming out with a torn muscle. Injuries heal and muscles grow stronger during periods of rest, not additional strain. We are entering a recovery period. Take a breath, think about talking with a therapist, and take stock of what you've learned. You do not want your experience to be for nothing. Forging purpose will require introspection and action.  Indeed, she believes, “rather than reverting and letting the world happen to you, you need to start happening to your world.”

My law moms offered similar sage advice. Write down your feelings after the event, and refer back to them when considering big changes and future challenges. If you are struggling to gain momentum in your personal re-entry, lean on close friends or family who are strong positive influences. And don’t be afraid to take it with you – you’re allowed to be different for all that has happened.

Life will always want to pull us back to center, closer to safety. We probably belong here. But the intensity of the moments when we are not here, when things are the hardest, shape who we are when we return. They might even help us ascend again.  

Where have you climbed? Where did you end up?

Also, please read to the end of this week’s newsletter for some news.

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The little things

I’m sorry, but my homegrown meme deserves more attention.

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Also

In 2020, we interviewed Sara Mauskopf, CEO and co-founder of Winnie, a data-driven marketplace and resource for childcare, on our podcast. This week, she Tweeted this:

And I couldn’t agree more. Every industry has its key player lists, which celebrate the young, budding, sprightly next generation of leaders. Cool cool. But truthfully, most of the women I see crushing it are pushing 40 and are working tiny miracles every day.

So in the spirit of Our Tiny Rebellions and Mother’s Day fast approaching, I’m seeking nominations for a new type of list. I want your accomplishments - your wins big and small. Did you get a promotion when you returned from mat leave? Did you volunteer for something you didn’t have time to do? Did you explain to your daughter where babies come from on the fly? All are wins!

You can nominate yourself or a friend, and let me know if I can use your first name or you’d prefer to be anon. Don’t be shy, please. I’m counting on you to celebrate yourself! Email: averagejoelle3@gmail.com.