How do I deal with stress? The biggest stressor in my life is work, which oddly enough, is one of the greatest joys in my life.
I’m not complaining. I get to do the job I love. I make a decent living. I work from home, on the shift that I prefer. However, by its very nature, journalism is a stressful career. You can’t surround yourself with death and destruction and crime and politics and twerking and not be affected. Well, I can’t anyway.
While I’m pretty good at maintaining my distance from the events of the day, I’m also human. Covering history as it happens can leave a person feeling emotionally and intellectually battered.
So how do I cope?
* I talk to M. He pays attention to what’s going on in the world. He’s compassionate. And his hugs are positively therapeutic.
* I drink tea. I firmly believe that freshly brewed tea, served in a favorite cup, will soothe both a tired body and an unsettled mind.
* I bake. The act of kneading or whipping ingredients into something delicious provides a physical outlet for channeling one’s aggressions. Plus, when you’re done, there’s dessert!
* I read. I can open a book or turn on my Kindle, and instantly lose myself in a romance, a mystery or a bit of poetry. As my eyes transform the words into stories, my mind is able to focus more on the characters’ problems than on my own. Books give me distance, distraction and, in some cases, enlightenment. (Once in a while though — and I’m looking at you Stephen King, Joe Hill and Chris Holm — the practice of reading to escape can lead to other emotions, particularly dread.)
* I watch movies. When I lived in New York City, I would spend almost every Friday morning at the multiplex, watching double- or triple-features. I did so because I love film, but also as a way to decompress. The movie theater has long been my dark sanctuary.
* I listen to music. Music is probably better for my soul than for my ears (I like it loud). Yet given the right tunes and enough time, most any stress can be defeated.
* I sit by the ocean. Once grounded to the sand, I look at the water and admire the ocean’s tempestuous nature. The horizon is vast, the air is salty, the wind blows through my hair and, in time, I am calmed.
* I wander in cemeteries. Most boneyards are beautiful in any season, perfect for wandering and wondering. They serve as memento mori as well; all problems pale in comparison to death. And, if your problem is death, a cemetery will offer a telling reminder that you are not alone in your pain.
