Stand your ground

[7 min read] Differentiation and learning to stand my ground

Happy Sunday!

I’m working on describing what it’s like to feel calm and what needs to be navigated to find your center. This week, I look at grounding in the present moment and the challenges along the way to developing the capacity to be in the present more often than not.

—gonzo

Our oldest son texted me a while ago: "I love this song; it always reminds me of you."

I was moved. I love the song, too. The original has the expected defiant but uplifting spirit that characterizes so many Petty songs: Free Fallin’, Runnin’ Down a Dream, Learning to Fly, You Wreck Me, Refugee, and American Girl. I think that’s all of them.

Cash produces something so stripped down and minimal that his soul is bare. His defiance is found in the gravel in his voice and the slower tempo–the classic chug-chug-chug that so often identifies Cash. But instead of uplifting, it’s introspective; his weathered voice highlights mortality, legacy, and what feels like a reflection on personal integrity. 

I’ve struggled to stand my ground. 

I’ve struggled to stand my ground because I’ve navigated boundaryless behavior well before I was old enough to know where I ended, and others began.

A few years ago, Mindy and I attended a couples retreat put on by a therapist named Jennifer Finlayson-Fife. She’s of some notoriety within the US Mormon community, which initially raised a red flag for me. Fortunately, her perspective on healthy relationships is founded on a concept called Differentiation, a process through which individuals maintain their distinct sense of self while being emotionally and physically close to their partners and not on religious adherence.

Differentiation is a concept I needed to familiarize myself with in the context of relationships. We’d tried working with other therapists and frameworks before, and the focus was typically much more needs-based. I see more clearly now how I was unlikely to succeed focused on a needs-based approach when I neither saw a respect for my needs modeled nor did I have a strong sense of my own needs. I did have a strong sense of what I could do without.

When you grow up trying to manage the adults in your life, it is common to think that over-functioning is the same as keeping everything under control. Over-functioning can feel like a survival strategy, especially when the environment is unpredictable. It’s common, but it’s neither a sustainable way to live nor conducive to a happy relationship.

When I feel centered, my heart and mind are open. When I feel unstable or distressed, my heart closes, and my mind begins forecasting everything that could go wrong. I become highly attuned to the emotional and behavioral texture of those around me. This hyper-vigilant state is something that I developed to navigate childhood.

It’s hard to develop a differentiated sense of self when all the adults in your life lean so heavily on you to validate them. Finding a differentiated sense of self was also probably impossible when my locus of control was focused outside myself.

I recently did a psychedelic-supported meditation and reflection session with one of my dear friends. We were working with a powerful but short-lived psychedelic. My intention for this meditation was to examine why it feels so challenging to accept that others want to celebrate my life on my birthday. I know the story I tell myself is that birthdays suck because they are a day that’s supposed to be about celebration, but they always end up being a day we try and anticipate when the other shoe will drop so we can get out of the way.

During the session, my friend who was facilitating helped me get into a very secure mental state. I was feeling open and capable of holding onto myself calmly. 

She asked me to try to identify what that young man felt and the tone of his existence.

“He’s just so tired. He’s prematurely exhausted by life.”, I said.

That was helpful to articulate. I feel that exhaustion seeping into me when I feel my heart closing. I hear it in my voice and feel it in my knees and shoulders.

I tried to create a highly controlled life with routines and unbroken streaks. These were well-intentioned efforts, but they were a recipe for constant anxiety and fear marking everything important in my life.

In that same session, I remembered what I felt like in the homes of some of my friends. One friend, in particular, lived in a magical world where people had boundaries, selfhood, and individuality and differentiation were celebrated. I saw how I was certain that my brokenness was too great a burden for anyone else to bear. It was better to withdraw and hide because prolonging the inevitable was all I was capable of doing.

I see now how I believed that enjoying life and finding joy in life was immature. I also thought that it was naive to dream hopeful dreams. The mature thing to do was to anticipate what could go wrong.

It’s getting easier to regain a centered sense of self now that I listen to my emotions and feelings instead of trying to eliminate them. I want to feel good being alive. The only way to do that is to get really good at feeling what I feel and being where I am. It’s so dynamic that predicting what might happen seems almost pointless, except that it’s such a well-worn path.

The more capable I am of being where I am, the easier it is for me to stay anchored to the present moment. Sure, there can be challenging emotions to deal with, but there’s also much more pleasure. It feels good to be present, especially with those I love. 

Standing my ground feels like being entirely present. I’m more keenly aware of what’s going on in me and more capable of navigating whatever comes up around me. It feels like standing my ground is grounded in a sense of self that is mainly felt, not thought. I can feel my back solid and relaxed, my hands reaching out like antennae unafraid of what they will meet, and my voice relaxing into the resonant bass that those who love me cherish*.

I thought the immediacy of emotion and feeling in the present moment would be too much to bear, but it turns out that I’m perfectly suited to be in the present. It was imagining all the infinities of possibilities that lay ahead that was too much to bear. 

—david/gonzo

* our children absolutely hate my customer service voice, a voice that is significantly higher in my register

NEAT!

Stuff we think is neat enough to share! (David⚡️ & Mindy)

SOMETHING TO TRY

Hey, AI help me craft a practice one could try that would be aligned with this week’s article:

Practice: "Finding Calm in the Storm"

  1. Notice the Signs: Begin by becoming aware of your physical responses during a conflict or tense situation. This could be a tightening in your chest, shallow breathing, or a clenching of your fists. Acknowledge these signs without judgment as indicators that your body is entering a defensive state.

  2. Pause and Breathe: Once you recognize these physical cues, give yourself permission to pause. Take a slow, deep breath to help interrupt the fight-or-flight response. Envision your breath reaching down to your toes and then back out, carrying with it some of the tension.

  3. Anchor Yourself: Find a physical or mental anchor. This could be a sensation in your body that feels grounded or a positive memory that brings you peace. Some find it helpful to focus on the feeling of their feet on the ground. Whatever your anchor, return your attention to it several times to help maintain your calm.

  4. Reflect Before Reacting: Use the space created by your breathing to reflect, not react. Ask yourself, "What am I really feeling right now? What is underneath this reaction?" Try to name the emotions you are experiencing—jealousy, fear, sadness—and consider what they might be telling you about your needs and desires.

  5. Respond with Intention: When you feel ready, choose how you want to respond rather than reacting impulsively. Decide if this is the time to speak, to listen, or perhaps to take a break and revisit the conversation later. Aim to respond in a way that aligns with who you want to be in the relationship, rather than from a place of hurt or anger.

  6. Practice Regularly: Like any skill, finding calm in the midst of emotional storms requires practice. Try to implement this exercise even in minor disagreements or during a stressful moment alone. Over time, it will become more natural to enter this state of centered responsiveness.

I think the tried-and-true advice to anchor on the material world around you is great advice. Once I get to the right-here-right-now, I can often find the energy to re-engage with the world around me by shifting my focus to a recent moment when I felt open. 

–gonzo

PARTING

WORDS

I’ll keep this world from draggin’ me down

Gonna stand my ground

I Won’t Back Down by Tom Petty

PIC

Meet Dana Scully Macaroni (Yes, I’m nude, she doesn’t care)

That’s all for this week! If you’re into this, share this newsletter with all your friends. Connecting with new subscribers is magical! 🧚🏻‍♀️

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DISCLAIMER: This newsletter is for educational and informational purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for professional medical advice.