Me as the Coachee

A pipe at home started to leak. Water flew down from the ceiling. This is the third time in this condo we had to call water damage restoration people. While fixing it, they saw another leaky pipe. One section after another was cut open on our walls. It became a very complicated and unsettling project.

One morning while the plumbers were here, I was in a coaching class. Even sitting in the bedroom, I could hear people coming in and out, and the loud sounds from the boots and the saw. There was no way to really settle down and focus. When it was my turn to be coached, I wanted to know how to feel less anxious amid household chores, caring for kids and elders, and working full time.

My coach asked me: "what does not being anxious feel like? Had you ever felt that way before?" I thought for a while, and said it was when I went back to China for vacation, when I didn't have to worry about anything at home. He invited me to describe the scene. I said I was in a hotel room. The decor and furniture were all made of solid wood, which I really liked. There were large windows, with green trees outside. Lying on the bed, I could see birds flying across the sky. One bird, then another, and each time a different type.

My coach then asked: "is there a way to bring that sense of calm into your current life?" That made me realize that the bedroom I was in could be my hotel room, and the plumbers going in and out outside could be the birds flying across the sky. I didn't need to worry about what the birds were doing, because in that moment, it wasn't my responsibility, and I couldn't do anything about it anyway.

Then I realized that as long as I wasn't actively handling household matters, I could be on vacation. Going to the gym is vacation. Running by the lake is also vacation. This extended further: when I'm taking care of my son, I'm on vacation from fixing the pipes; when I'm dealing with the pipes, I'm on vacation from childcare. So no matter where I am or what I'm doing, I can be on vacation. What I need to do is to pay attention to the present moment, to the hotel room I'm in right now. Everything else is just birds outside the window.

In the coaching class the following week, we learned how to be with emotions. This practice moves from one emotional state you want to move away from towards one you desire. Before the class, I had been thinking about where I wanted to move from and to after all the turmoil of the past few months. Maybe from "anxiety" to "inner peace." Maybe, when facing yet another leaking pipe, from "adrenaline rush" to "respond calmly." In the end, I chose to move from "anxiety, reactivity" to "peace, calm, feel OK." At the beginning, I held the anxious state of a stress response: my chest felt tight and heavy. After taking a few steps, it still felt the same. I even began to doubt whether this exercise would work. Then I took another step. The movement of my feet and body began to loosen and mobilize something inside me. The emotions started to move, like water flowing through a pipe.

This made me realize that what I needed was not to stop anxiety from arising, but to allow it to arise and then flow naturally, and flow away. I can't prevent anxiety from appearing, just as I can't prevent leaks from happening, and I can't make "unfinished" things instantly finished. What I need to do is to allow emotions to arise, accept them, let them pass through my body, and then dissipate.

The plumbing company has a slogan: "Water is the gift. We treat it that way." We need water, which is why we need so many pipes to carry it into our homes. Pipes age. Buildings age. Just like the human body ages. Aging brings all kinds of problems. Do we stop needing water because we're afraid of leaks? Do we reject this body because we're afraid of getting sick? I want to have less resistance, less avoidance, less overthinking. I want to face it, accept it, and handle it. Every leak is an opportunity for practice.