The drill: Answer a set of questions about how you manage stress (or don't) in different situations and you get canned feedback that is scripted according to your responses. Along with a few "attaboys" for positive behaviors you also get what feels like a wagging finger and a tsk-tsk in those areas where your habits may not be the best.
I completed the survey Tuesday night, feeling good that I'd just put out a fire the previous day involving my mom's prescription medications and finances.
Two mornings later, my co-workers and I were hit with the news that our employer, the Oregonian Publishing Co., would go out of business at the end of September and be replaced by a new media company emphasizing digital news content. (More on those changes tomorrow.) The fallout would be immediate and devastating. Dozens of people I've worked with -- and in some cases helped recruit to The Oregonian -- would be told they were losing their jobs.
The following day, issues with my mom flared up again, this time over plans to sell her house, now that she has accepted the reality that she can no longer live on her own. Suffice to say that we have conflicting visions of what that involves, in terms of what needs to be done to empty the house of furniture and 50 years' worth of accumulated stuff, and who should be involved in that herculean task.
Professional stress. Personal stress. One right on top of the other. And more of the same, I learned Saturday.
All the residents in the group home where Mom is now living will be temporarily displaced for three to four months because of an underground repair involving natural gas lines. This means my 85-year-old mother must adapt to yet another place to live, following two nursing homes and two hospital stays since late January, precipitated by a broken hip and diminishing kidney function.
She's scheduled to move to a new place in mid-July, right around the time my two sisters and I are supposed to converge from three different states to clean out Mom's house.
So, yeah, I couldn't help but think of the stress-management strategies I'd read about days earlier.
Saturday morning: I went for a longer-than-usual run in the neighborhood, breathing in the fresh Oregon air and letting my mind wander.
Saturday afternoon: After a small project putting up lights on our rooftop deck, Lori and I sat in the sun, sipping a tall, cold drink while Otto found a place in the shade to lie down. We listened to chirping birds we couldn't see and kicked around possible retirement scenarios. (Oh yeah, I had a small bowl of ice cream with fresh strawberries and bananas on the side.)
Saturday evening: On the spur of the moment, we met up with our neighbor Teresa and her boyfriend Bob for a game of bocce and light dinner at an outdoor table at a nearby restaurant in the North Park Blocks.
Taken together, all of these things contributed to a healthy release of emotions through physical exertion, food and drink, conversation and recreation. Even the ice cream would be tolerated, if not encouraged, as a personal reward by my online "stress management" robot.
The coping continues. After a four-week absence, I'm planning to join Lori at yoga this morning.
Image: oregonstate.edu