Grip

Verb:

take and keep a firm hold of; grasp tightly.

2. (of a feeling or emotion) deeply affect (someone).

Noun:

a firm hold; a tight grasp or clasp.

2. an effective form of control over something.

When are we going to get a solid grip on what is happening?

When will we get a grip on how to navigate this pandemic?

When will I stop being gripped by financial fears in the night?

When will I get a grip on my reeling mind and be more productive?

My mind has been racing, searching, scanning, seeking, and attempting to sort (with futility) all of the information flying with accelerating speed and ramifications every day. This morning I sat down to re-engage in the process of morning pages, a practice that I recommend often to clients whose minds have been doing somersalts like mine, as it is one of the most effective ways I know to skim the debris off of the surface so that what is bubbling up from below has space to receive the light it deserves and the oxygen it needs. And yet I found myself racing through my writing, my hand cramping, and my handwriting a mess. It felt as if I was making a desperate attempt to squeeze the last of the toothpaste out of the tube. It was not pleasurable.

I was muscling through my journaling. I see how ridiculous that sounds now but I was. And when I released some of my grip on the pen and slowed waaaay down a whole new way of being ushered me back into the very same spinning world that I briefly exited. Has this ever happened to you? In just an instant, albeit a juicy one, I was able to recalibrate and rediscover what I loved about journaling in the first place, the artful formation of words and the space it creates in my thinking to give rise to my feeling. And most importantly, the sense of peace and temporary satisfaction that overcomes me when the ink stops, maybe akin to a runner at the end of a morning run.

Over the years, initially employed as a coping skill, I have become a steady gripper. I take pride in being able to calmly take control in a stressful situation. To be the one who can stabilize the chaos and help those around me regain a sense of ease. I am quick to grab the wheel. Inner voice: Don’t worry Annie, you can take the pain. Or: Contain that fire of yours, it will get you into trouble. Dampen it down. I grip around what I think I won’t be able to get more of. I grip to protect what I don’t want to lose. I grip when I don’t know I am gripping.

And yet the very gripping that gave us possession of what we were seeking in the first place, when unchecked, is what can squeeze out the joy, the space, the freedom, the love that we were pursuing. Gripping is a temporary compressor of fear, one that leaves a tension in the body, the business, or the household, that calcifies over time if we are not careful.

The image above from my recent photo session with Nicole McConville is one of the first times I can actually see my grip loosened and when I look at the image below I can feel my grip loosening. I am at ease in my body, my mind, and my spirit in these infinitesimal moments that she captured. The subtle grippings that I carry throughout my days abated because of the trust and feeling of safety that she creates in her studio and in the way in which we tenderly and transparently communicate with each other.

One of the definitions of the word grip is: an effective form of control over something. And yet, so often our gripping is so reflexive that we don’t stop to think first about whether “the something” that we are stepping in to control actually wants or warrants being controlled in the first place. We have become deeply conditioned by what life has dealt us along the way, and to our reactions to these things, both involuntary and voluntary.

Simply put, in Nicole’s studio I did not need to grip because of the space I was given, within a highly reverent place, to simply be with, and move with, what I was experiencing. Without judgement, with gentle guidance, and with the ever-present opportunity and encouragement to say no or yes.

What would happen if I were to keep loosening the grip? In my jaw, in my hips, in my business, on my pen, in my heart, on my resources? Would the gain outweigh the loss if my life force begins to move more freely because of no longer being so constricted by intentions of preservation and self-protection?

One of the truest summations I can find to say of these days is that everything feels out of control. And yet isn’t it even more true to admit that life by design is not ours to control and always will be? The more I free myself to this notion the more I see that we have an incredible opportunity to build the world anew if we release the illusion that we can control anything and replace it with the understanding that it is what we care for and how we care for it that matters. Institutions that confine and oppress are held up by this gripping of control. Community members that serve the common good are sensitive to our tendencies to grip and fear, and then work to combat these elements with seemingly simple, yet ultimately transformative, acts of care, as I experienced in my one-on-one experience with Nicole.

I am not advising that we let go of everything in times of crisis, for what we possess is very often what we most love, need, or want to help us just keep on moving. But I do believe that the only way I see anything truly changing for the better in our world is if we, each and all, commit to letting go of something that is not serving us and not serving the future in which our hopes reside. Essentially, commit to letting go of something we are gripping so hard that we can identify the pain. The cramping hand. The breaking heart.

Instead, can we for a moment let our fingers slide gently down the wall.

And then, tune in and see what shifts within and surrounding.

You can find Nicole’s own comments from our session and follow her work here.

Releasing the Grip