When the Hard Thing Is Predictable

Recently, I’ve been reliving a traumatic experience.

And I mean that quite literally. Something in my present is the exact problem I struggled with in my past, and my nervous system has been revisiting the old experience in real time.

It has been disturbing. There’s no doubt about that. But it has also been incredibly healing.

Not because the experience is easy. Not because I’ve figured out some magical way to bypass the discomfort. But because this time, I am resourced enough to navigate it differently.

I have more capacity within me now. I can be present with the discomfort, unpleasantness, frustration, annoyance, sadness, confusion, and all of it. And in being present with it, I can start to notice the thoughts and patterns that were there the first time around.

I can see what overwhelmed my nervous system then. I can see what short-circuited me.

And I can see, with a little more compassion now, the strategies I used to try to keep myself safe.

When Planning Becomes a Form of Control

One of the patterns I’ve been noticing is how much I approached the original experience like I was trying to bake a cake. As if there were a recipe. As if I could control for the right factors, measure the right ingredients, follow the right steps, and guarantee the outcome I wanted.

But life doesn’t work that way. Not with people. Not with grief. Not with conflict. Not with uncertainty. Not with hardship. Not with the experiences that ask us to surrender the illusion of control.

And yet, this is such a common maladaptive strategy for many of us. We use planning as a way to feel a sense of control in situations where we feel overwhelmed, scared or confused.

That’s what I did.

I set expectations for myself, for other people, for how things would unfold, for what I hoped would happen, and for what it would mean if they didn’t. Then, as the situation unfolded step by step, those expectations kept going unmet.

And each unmet expectation hurt me deeply. It didn’t just disappoint me. It disturbed me. It overwhelmed me. It added another layer of stress to an already painful experience.

Looking back, I can see that I wasn’t only struggling with what was happening. I was struggling with the fact that what was happening didn’t match the outcome I had tried so hard to plan for.

We Can’t Always Plan Our Way Out

We can’t plan our way out of hard things. But we can be prepared. We can expect that hard things will happen.

Not in a pessimistic, doom-and-gloom kind of way. Not in a way where we assume everything is going to fall apart.

But in a grounded way. A reality-based way. A “this is part of life” kind of way.

For example, we can predict there will be more wildfires in Colorado. That’s part of the ecosystem we live in. It’s one of the natural disasters this region is prone to.

That doesn’t mean we live in constant fear of wildfire. It means we acknowledge the reality of it. We prepare. We pay attention. We build capacity. We stop treating the predictable thing like a personal failure when it happens. And we accept that there’s so much beyond our control.

And that same principle applies in our lives, relationships, workplaces, and leadership. There are challenges that are predictable. There are dynamics we know may show up. There are stressors that, while frustrating, are not surprising.

And something changes when we can say, “Of course this is happening.”

“Of Course This Is Happening”

A few months ago, I was talking with friends about a completely different situation. It was one of those recurring struggles I have. Not universal. Not something everyone wrestles with. But something that makes me feel alone, inadequate, and easily frustrated.

As I was talking it through, I said, “This is predictable for me.”

One of my friends reflected back how powerful that framing was. “This is predictable.”

It doesn’t mean I caused it. It doesn’t mean something is wrong with me. It doesn’t mean I failed to prevent it. It means this is a pattern I can recognize.

Another friend shared a strategy she’s found helpful. Something she says to herself when the predictable, difficult thing arises. “Of course this is happening.”

Of course you’re excited to go on a trip and now there’s a flat tire.

Of course this situation is causing conflict with others and they’re freaking out about it.

That framing doesn’t excuse harmful behavior. It doesn’t mean we just sit there and take it.

But it does interrupt the spiral of compounding stressors so we have the inner resources to navigate it more wisely.

The Stressors Aren’t Going Away

Try as we might to create more conveniences in life, stressors aren’t going to disappear (nor would we want them to).

We are going to keep encountering hard things. Things won’t work out the way we hoped. Setbacks will happen. People will do things that annoy us. We’ll endure accidents. Our bodies will fail us. The marketplace will shift in ways that negate that eliminates a market segment we counted on. All of that is frustrating. It’s also human.

Part of what has habitually overwhelmed my nervous system in the past was the sense that I was stuck in the same loops. The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows calls this feeling, altschmerz. It means weariness with the same old issues you’ve always had. The same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been chewing on for years.

Over and over again, I found myself facing the same challenges. In my work. In my life. In my body. I was so frustrated by seeing the same problems again and again because I felt like it meant there was something wrong with me. And I’d fall into negative self-talk and judgment that made everything harder.

I wanted the problems to disappear rather than accepting that struggle is a normal part of life. I saw the patterns I felt stuck in as life assigning me an F, instead of recognizing that growth is often nonlinear. I strove for perfection, and in doing so negated the tremendous progress I was making time and time again.

In other words, I was approaching everything all wrong. 

The Story We Tell Ourselves Matters

There’s a quote often attributed to Seneca, “We suffer more often in imagination than in reality.”

And while I don’t want to minimize the very real pain of hard experiences, I know there’s truth in that.

So much of our suffering comes not only from the stressors themselves, but from the thoughts we have about them. The story we tell ourselves. The meaning we attach. The fear that this moment is proof of something terrible. The belief that because this pattern is here again, we must be failing.

When we can notice those stories, we have a better chance of navigating them. Not perfectly. Not without discomfort. But with more compassion and choice.

Building the Capacity to Stay Composed

For me, being able to navigate this situation on repeat differently has not happened by accident. It has come from building inner resources over time.

Heart meditation. Journaling. Therapy. Somatic work. Breathwork. Yoga. Movement. Practices that help me return to myself.

Some of these things I do daily. Some I do occasionally. Some I return to when I know I need more support. 

But they all add up. They build the capacity to be with discomfort without being consumed by it. They help me notice the story I’m telling myself. They help me recognize the trigger, the pattern, the old protective strategy, and the way my body is responding.

And they help me choose what comes next with intention, instead of staying stuck in a reactive pattern that ends up causing me more harm.

The Challenge Before You

So here is my invitation. Challenge accepted does not mean pretending the hard thing is easy. It does not mean muscling through, bypassing your feelings, or judging yourself into resilience.

It means looking at the challenge in front of you and asking:

• What changes when I recognize this is predictable?

• What changes when I stop making this mean something is wrong with me?

• What if I accept what’s before me instead of resisting or fighting it?

• What support do I need to stay resourced as I move through this?

Because the hard thing in front of you may not be a sign that you did anything wrong. It does not mean you are bad, broken, or behind. It is predictable that hard things will happen.

And if it is predictable, you can meet it differently. You can prepare without trying to control everything. You can expect the challenge without collapsing into fear. You can resource yourself instead of abandoning yourself. You can stop fighting the fact that hard things happen and start asking, “What do I need in order to move through this with care?”

That’s the challenge. Not to avoid the stressor. Not to make the perfect plan. But to build the capacity to stay present, compassionate, and resourced when the hard thing arrives so you may respond intentionally instead of react in ways that cause you more stress and hardship in the long run.

Resource

If this resonated with you, I created a free PDF worksheet to help you:

Download the free handout here.

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