Feeling ‘safe ENOUGH’ in worried times
Hypervigilant Heroes! Graham here.
A confession. I’ve never been all that good at relaxing.
What??
This past week, Honor and I have been on a belated holiday. A week away by a lake in central Victoria, with just Honor’s sister and her partner.
We’ve had it booked for months, listed in the calendar as ‘Awesome Foursome Little Lie Down Holiday’. A packed program of reading, making food, and the occasional dip in the lake.
Yes please.
It’s ended up being perfect timing. The massive spike in COVID cases in Melbourne has seen my already well-honed hyper vigilance shoot into full overdrive.
Here in this idyllic scene, no strangers in shouting distance, my brain can take a break from COVID worries. And instead really sink its teeth into something completely unexpected...
Random all-consuming fears about cybersecurity.
Of course!
The dangers of communal WiFi
Did you know that the WiFi at an Air BnB can be just as unsecure as public WiFi?
I do, now.
Not because anything bad has happened. But because I’ve just spent the last hour frantically researching this little factoid.
It started with a nagging question.
I needed to sign into my online banking, to check an automatic payment. I did this without thinking, and then suddenly asked myself...
‘Should I have just done that?’
‘How secure is an Air BnB WiFi’ I ask Google (because my three holiday mates are relaxing with paint-by-numbers and books, and I don’t want to bring the vibe down by asking them).
Google is full of helpful answers to this question, as you might imagine. All of which conclude with the advice that, ‘it’s probably fine, as long as you don’t do something stupid like sign into your online banking.’
Wonderful.
The worry spiral
You probably know how the spiral goes from here, whatever the topic might be.
That little question, ‘should I have done that?’ gives you just enough information to conclude ‘no, I most definitely should not have’.
From there you’re off and running, as each question begets another.
‘If this WiFi network isn’t secure, how long until the (imaginary) hackers can make use of my compromised data?’
‘Do I definitely have second factor authentication turned on, and is there a way to check that without logging back into my bank account again?’
Each new question spins off its own line of Google queries and what ifs. A little family tree of nervousness. And they all really boil down to one, central question spurring the whole thing on.
‘Just how bad is it???’
This is not a question you can ask yourself in a neutral cadence. It’s a question that snowballs, until the very act of asking it so frantically becomes its own evidence that something must be seriously wrong.
I look at my holiday friends, still relaxing, utterly unperturbed by all the noise in my head.
That old familiar feeling. All worked up over something I couldn’t even explain if I tried.
Why this worry, now?
On this particular day though, for whatever reason, the worry spiral has another feature. I’m able to ask myself another question, alongside the ever-present ‘how bad is it??’
This other question is a calmer, simpler question. It doesn’t have anything to do with online banking or cybersecurity.
‘Why this worry, now?’
I’m in an idyllic setting, with people I love. I finally have nothing on my plate that has to be done. So why am I suddenly obsessing over the safety of something I’ve probably done multiple times before without consequence?
Because I need something to worry about. Because ironically, worrying about stuff is one of my brain’s main strategies for feeling safe.
So what’s that about then?
‘I should know better’
The thing is, I know I’m a worrier. I’ve learned to be skeptical of these worry spirals, because there have been so many spirals before.
But there’s always that other voice in my head too. The one saying, ‘yeah but this time it’s different.’
In fact, sometimes my awareness of my own worry-prone nature can actually fuel the self-recrimination. I think ‘surely I of all people should know better than to expose myself to <insert supposedly risky thing>!’
The actual risk in question may be minuscule (it usually is). And on some level I’ll know this. But I’ll think, ‘well that will just make me kick myself even harder if such a minuscule, unlikely thing happens to me of all people.’
The perfectionism of worry
As I write this out, I can see a familiar theme in my thinking: perfectionism.
When I’m in one of these spirals, the underlying belief isn’t just ‘I need to be safe’. It’s ‘I need to be perfectly safe, so I must find any and all ways this seemingly safe situation could in fact be risky.’
‘Perfectly safe.’ It’s the standard parental refrain to a worried child’s questions.
‘Don’t worry dear, it’s perfectly safe.’
And if you were a worried kid (like I was), you knew the horror of that well-meaning reassurance.
‘But it’s not perfectly safe! Because nothing is *perfectly* safe…’
All these years later, the same dialogue plays out in my head when one of these worry spirals hits. The same attempts at reassurance. (‘Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe.’)
But lately I’m wondering if evoking the idea of ‘perfect’ just spins the worry wheel faster.
If I set the bar at ‘perfectly safe’, it’s like setting my worried brain a challenge, to find increasingly unlikely examples of potential threats, all in the name of feeling safer.
And that’s how you end up having a shit time on holiday, while everyone else is relaxing.
‘Safe enough’: a different relationship to risk
An hour into this particular worry spiral about online banking, I decide to let my holiday mates in on my process.
‘So here’s a funny thing my brain’s been stuck on just now…’, I announce to the room.
They’re close enough friends that they know I’m not really looking for reassurance, just a chance to air what’s happening.
I tell them about my WiFi worries. I mention that for the past twenty minutes I’ve been actively considering driving to where I can get 4G coverage, so I can change my banking password, but that I’ve just now decided this would be over the top (even for me), so instead I’m going to just put a reminder in my calendar for when we get home.
The whole thing is met with wry amusement, then people go back to their books and paint-by-numbers.
The truth is, this confession doesn’t stop me worrying. But I notice that I have at least shifted gears a little. I’m no longer actively trying to solve the problem. I’m not researching further, or brainstorming excuses to take the car up the road.
My plan (to just change my banking password when we’re home) it’s not a perfect plan. My brain is very clear about this! It’s not perfectly safe.
But in this moment, for whatever reason I’m able to respond in a different way to how I usually might.
Instead of arguing with my brain, or looking for more evidence on Google, I’m able to respond to myself somewhat calmly:
‘No this plan isn’t perfect, but it’s safe enough.’
Safe enough. A different kind of goal.
I’m still learning to be comfortable with ‘safe enough’. Perhaps that’s a lifelong process. But it feels much more achievable than the mirage of ‘perfectly safe’.
Time for a kayak instead
Still, what to do with all this nervous energy?
I make a decision. Instead of driving around randomly looking for cell coverage, I’m going to do something far more holiday-appropriate. I’m going to take one of the little kayaks on the lake out for a spin.
Will I have various worried thoughts about how to keep safe in a kayak? Quite possibly! But I’m pretty sure I can stay safe enough.
Update: too hot for kayaking
Strange times
We live in strange times. Truth be told, they’re pushing every sensitive cat button I have.
‘Safe enough’ seems a useful phrase for right now, more generally.
I’ve been whispering it to myself since we got back from our trip, every time I pass someone in public without a mask on, and catch myself holding my breath.
‘Safe enough. I’m staying safe enough.’
Right now, that will do.
Event on THIS Sunday!
The December / January period can push one’s sensitive cat buttons even at the best of times.
Whether it’s the perils of attempting a holiday, or those big existential questions that lurk in the shadows of a New Year.
Just me?
This Sunday, we’re having the first of our now monthly(!) Big Feels Club talks, on this very topic:
That ‘what the hell am I doing with my life??’ feeling
When? Sunday at 10.30AM Melbourne time (or Saturday evening for our more far flung feelers).
Where? On Zoom.
How do you join in?
These new monthly talks are part of the spiffy secret squirrel new thing we’ve been building these last few months.
It’s not quite ready to launch far and wide just yet, but if this talk sounds like you (or if you just need a little boost of connection with your fellow big feelers right now) we’ll tell you how you can join in.
Just hit reply to this week’s newsletter and ask ‘HOW DO I JOIN THE THING??’
— Graham.
