It doesn’t take much to recognise that we are living in unstable and anxious times. Our jobs, families, relationships, finances and daily lives are all affected by forces that are often much bigger than us. Geopolitics, supply chain issues pushing up prices, changing regulations, companies cutting costs, and people being laid off in droves, all become part of the atmosphere we live in.
At the same time, life close to home does not stop. Our children or parents might not be doing well. A relationship might be under pressure. A team or organisation we care about might be anxious or reactive. Our plans might not be working out the way we thought they would. We may find ourselves having to absorb one disappointment, adjustment or difficulty after another.
In ontological coaching, we would call these “breakdowns”. A breakdown happens when the expected flow of life is interrupted; when something we assumed, hoped for, planned or relied on no longer unfolds as expected. Many of us are not only facing one breakdown, but continuous breakdowns! We are living in them, working in them, parenting in them, leading in them, and trying to make wise decisions while they keep taking a toll on us in one way or another.
Just hoping the crisis will resolve, or that it will end soon, is not necessarily an option for many of us. Some crises continue for a long time. Some become part of the context in which we still have to live, love, work, lead and make decisions. That is why I wanted to write this blog: to reflect on how we can strengthen ourselves in times of crisis, whether that crisis is at home, at work, in family life, in leadership, or in important relationships.
Strengthen and shift your own perspective
One of the most important places to begin is with our own perspective. In a crisis, the way we see the situation either strengthens us or weakens us. It affects our mood, our body, our language, our listening, and the kind of action we believe is possible.
One shift that goes a long way is to stop fighting and wrestling with what we cannot control or change. This does not mean we become passive or indifferent. It means we begin to distinguish between what is ours to influence and what is not ours to carry. When we keep fighting reality, we often remain stuck in resentment. Resentment can feel powerful, but over time it drains the clarity and capacity we need. Acceptance, on the other hand, can become a place of peace and perspective. It allows us to see more clearly what is actually happening and what might still be possible.
Another important shift is to stop trying to eliminate uncertainty. Crisis or not, life will always include uncertainty. The anxious mind often believes that if it can only get enough information, enough guarantees, or enough control, then it will finally be able to rest. But uncertainty is part of life, and when we slowly learn to accept that, we may find that our anxiety begins to loosen. Acceptance of uncertainty can open a different perspective, one that makes room for curiosity, learning and discernment.
We also need to stop agreeing too quickly with the perspective that nothing is possible and nothing can be done. In a crisis, our field of possibility can shrink very quickly. We may start to believe that because we cannot change the whole situation, there is no meaningful action available to us. Yet once we have shifted our perspective and tested our assessments against reality, there are often still options. There may be a conversation to have, a request to make, a boundary to draw, a commitment to renegotiate, a rhythm to recover, a support system to build, or a next wise action to take.
Another perspective that can deeply weaken us is the one we hold about ourselves. Crisis often activates old core self-assessments. These are the sneaky and deeply debilitating assessments that can sit underneath the surface of our functioning: “I am failing,” “I am not strong enough,” “I always get this wrong,” “I am alone,” “I am too much,” “I am not enough.” These assessments can feel so familiar that we forget to challenge them. Yet they may be contributing to our struggle to shift perspective or take appropriate responsibility. Strengthening ourselves requires that we identify these assessments, question them, and refuse to let them define our identity in the middle of a crisis.
Strengthen the way you participate in the crisis
A crisis does not only affect our thinking. It impacts our whole being: body, soul and spirit. It affects how we breathe, how we sleep, how we listen, how we speak, how quickly we react, how much responsibility we take on, and how present or absent we become in the systems we are part of.
This is why strengthening ourselves in a systemic way is so important. Edwin Friedman* gives very helpful principles for how to live and lead in anxious times. His work reminds us that in a crisis, it is not only the content of the problem that matters; our functioning in the system matters as well.
We need to continue living life and keep up our functioning as far as possible, without allowing the crisis to become the centre of our whole life. When the crisis becomes the axis around which everything turns, our world becomes smaller and our anxiety often grows stronger. Keeping up ordinary rhythms, responsibilities, prayer, work, rest, connection and even humour can be a way of refusing to let the crisis take over the whole story.
We also need to find a support system outside the system that is in crisis. When a family, workplace, team or relationship system becomes highly anxious, it is easy to be pulled into the anxiety and lose perspective. Wise support outside the system — whether that is a professional, coach, counsellor, mentor, friend, family member or spiritual companion — can help us think more clearly and stay grounded.
It is important not to let go of our long-term goals too quickly. Anxiety often pushes for immediate relief. It wants to escape discomfort now, solve everything now, decide everything now, or avoid everything now. But our long-term commitments still matter. We may need to adapt them, but we should be careful not to abandon them simply because the present moment feels overwhelming.
We strengthen ourselves when we practise deep breathing, regulate our nervous system, and pray or meditate. These practices may sound simple, but in anxious times they are not small. They help bring us back into our bodies and back into the present moment. A regulated nervous system allows us to listen more accurately, speak more wisely and respond with greater choice.
We need to listen to our bodies. The body often tells the truth before the mind has found words for it. Tight shoulders, shallow breathing, tiredness, agitation, numbness, headaches, a heavy chest or a short temper may all be signs that we need to pause and pay attention. Our bodies are not just carrying the crisis; they are also giving us information about how we are living in it.
We need to watch for triangles. In anxious systems, it is very common for people to pull a third person into a tension instead of dealing directly with the person or issue involved. We talk about someone rather than to them. We carry messages. We become the rescuer, the mediator, the loyal ally, the silent sufferer or the responsible one. Triangles may reduce anxiety for a moment, but they often keep the real issue from being faced.
We also need to balance being responsible for ourselves with not becoming defiant or unruly. Taking responsibility for our own functioning does not mean becoming harsh, rebellious or disconnected. It also does not mean becoming compliant, over-adapted or swallowed by the anxiety of others. There is a mature place where we can say, “This is what I am responsible for,” and also, “This is not mine to carry.”
Another helpful practice is to realise how anxious the system is and to loosen it up where possible with humour. This does not mean making light of serious things. It means remembering that anxiety is not the only atmosphere available to us. Humour, warmth and perspective can sometimes create just enough space for people to breathe and think again.
There are also times when we need to make a decision because the same question is bringing no new information. Some questions go around and around, but they do not keep producing new clarity. In those moments, strength may look like making the next grounded decision with the information we have, rather than waiting for certainty that may never come.
Where appropriate, we also need to accept the possibility that our own functioning may be contributing to the crisis. This is difficult to consider, but it can be deeply freeing. We can ask ourselves: Am I over-functioning? Am I avoiding? Am I trying to control too much? Am I rescuing? Am I under-functioning? Am I keeping the peace at the cost of truth? Am I reacting from anxiety rather than responding from clarity?
The tensions we need to navigate
Friedman also highlights the tensions that leaders and mature adults have to hold in times of crisis. These tensions are worth looking at slowly, because most of us will recognise where we tend to lose our balance.
We need to lean on others and still stay accountable.
We need to get information and still be decisive.
We need to keep enough distance to think clearly and still stay connected.
We need to not avoid what is happening and also not try to solve everything.
We need to keep up our functioning and refrain from avoiding or denying reality.
We need to maintain our commitment to see something through and also not let it become the axis of our whole life.
We need to be willing to risk and take chances while also regulating our own reactivity.
These tensions are not easy. Each of us will have a habitual way of responding. Some of us lean too far into responsibility and end up carrying what is not ours. Some of us distance too quickly and call it wisdom. Some of us keep gathering information because we are afraid to decide. Some of us decide too quickly because we cannot tolerate the discomfort of uncertainty. Some of us avoid conflict. Some of us try to solve everything.
One small different action
In crisis times, our already powerful automatic and habitual ways of being become even stronger. Our autopilot takes over (even more). We tend to do more of what we already know, even when that way of being is no longer helping us or the people around us.
This blog is only as useful as the time you and I are willing to take to pause, reflect on where we are, and identify one small shift we are willing to make.
The key to strength in crisis may be the courage, humility and self-reflection to allow ourselves to be strengthened in our inner being. We may not be able to change everything around us. We may not be able to remove the uncertainty, fix the whole system, or make the crisis disappear as quickly as we would like. But we can grow in how we participate. We can become more grounded, clear and integrous. We can become a steadier presence in the systems we are part of and deeply care about.
Until next time, Carine
*Friedman, Edwin. A failure of Nerve. Church Publishing. New York, 2017. pp.259-260.
