Last Sunday, my husband asked if I wanted to have coffee before the grocery store and it sent me into a bit of a tailspin. What seems like a normal question had me feeling buzzing in my chest. Would I be OK to sit outside in the shade for coffee in 95 degree weather? I had hoped we would have made an earlier start to the day before it got too hot, but it was already 11:30. I wasn’t sure I could handle it - but then again - I questioned myself. What is wrong with me that I can’t spend some quality time at a cafe with my husband?
The day before, we went to the beach to escape the heat. It involved an hour long train ride, completely full of people, without a hint of breeze. The train chugged slowly along the tracks as the passengers melted slowly into a miserable haze. When we finally arrived and jumped off the train, my husband rubbed my back in conciliatory congratulations that we had survived the train ride. I ducked away as I was so embarrassed that I had sweat through my dress. As soon as we got to the beach club, I immediately ripped off my clothing and soaked in the ocean for about 45 minutes, trying to bring my body temperature back to normal. I eventually threw myself onto an ocean lounger set-up by the beach club and contemplated the meaning of life while I looked at Vesuvius. As the sun got too hot, I climbed out and took a nap in the shade and drinking my entire bottle of water. When I stood up, I blacked out and almost fainted. I sat in shame as I ushered my husband to get me some cold water.
Weather, of course, is relative. Friends have told me, “95 degrees is nothing compared to the 110 degree marathon in Arizona!”. European tourists we’ve met around Naples have told us we’re so lucky to live in a place with so much sunshine and the ability to go to the beach. I have gone back and forth. I should be happy I’m here! I should adapt by waking up at 5 am and walking before it gets too hot! I can listen to a meditation on my phone and bring myself to a new mental location! I’ve even gone so far as to investigate an improved diet for warm climates. Committing to no alcohol, no fizzy drinks, no meat, no dairy, and lots of spicy foods seemed like a drastic choice but I was willing to do it.
I know that I’m fearing heat exhaustion. I am afraid of being stuck in the heat, sweating, and far from a cold shower, an air conditioner, a fan, or a cold swim. The overthinking, the vacillating, the worrying, goes beyond the heat. It’s making me cranky and negative in other ways too. It’s harder to see the glass as half full. But if I scratch further beneath the surface, what I am beginning to understand that I have fear and anxiety about being physically uncomfortable.
Physical discomfort is as much a part of life as emotional discomfort. As Dr. Stutz says, the only constant in life is “pain, uncertainty, and doing the work”. There will always be things outside of our control that make us uncomfortable. How can we focus on what is in our control? Yes, I can adjust my schedule and diet, and there are also things I can do to give myself a break. I don’t have to be the Queen of Napoli this summer. I can embrace doing less, and when I do go out, I can work on tolerating discomfort.
Just today, I met friends for coffee at 8:30 AM. We thought it might be early enough to meet before it got too hot. Even though it was just a short 8 minute uphill walk away, when I sat down, I was drenched in sweat and very uncomfortable. I sat a moment, let my heart rate cool down, and waited for my friends to get there. By the time they arrived, we ordered coffee, and I took my first sip, I had cooled off significantly. I had stopped sweating and took a moment of immense pleasure, how nice it was to sit in the shade, how great my “cold” (room temp in Italy) cappuccino was, and how nice it was to have such wonderful company. My entire disposition shifted to being calm and centered. '
How do you get through physical or emotional discomfort?