I can fit everything I know about boxing in this paragraph. Guys punch each other and when one of them falls down, they have ten seconds to get back up. If they don’t, they lose. (This is the whole thing, right?)
What has always captured my attention is how long they stay on the mat when they get knocked down. Some of them just jump back up and keep swinging. But, sometimes, they lie there so long, you think they are NEVER getting back up. The referee is counting and they aren’t moving at all. And, then, right as the referee says TEN, they are suddenly on their feet.
My So-Called Dangerous Childhood
When I was nine years old, I used to ride my bike in circles around an abandoned church parking lot, treating it like my own personal racetrack. Once, I was zooming around and around when my tire hit a patch of gravel and I went down hard, the bike falling on top of me.
Where were this child’s parents you ask? What can I say? It was the 80’s, and this is how we rolled.
I screamed out in pain, feeling the gravel poke into my cheek, but no one answered. I peeked out from under the bike and didn’t see anyone around. I stayed under the bike for about a minute, nearly hyperventilating.
Then, without getting up, I took one arm and heaved the bike off of me before lying back down on the pavement. I stayed there, in a fetal position, for what felt like forever, waiting for the shock of the pain to subside.
After what felt like 10-15 minutes, I slowly sat up and inspected my wounds, slowly picking dirt and debris out of the cuts on my knees, elbows and hands. I didn’t get up. I just sat there, staring into space for another 5 minutes or so until my breathing had slowed and I had calmed down.
Then, I got up and inspected my bike for damage. More deep breaths. I slowly got back on. I rode very slowly up the street, stopping several times due to pain or to wipe up the blood trickling down my leg. For several days, I rode around in pain until slowly, my wounds started to heal. I told no one.
Before long, my injuries had disappeared…just in time for me to ride my bike into the back of someone’s car and start all over again. I was (and continue to be) somewhat accident prone.
Really, just stay under the bike.
When I got older, I noticed that I go through almost this exact same process whenever I suffer a loss of any kind…a death, the loss of a relationship or friendship, the loss of a job, or even an illness. It is the equivalent to staying on the mat until the referee gets to TEN. It is taking every available second of time at your disposal to catch your breath before getting up to keep fighting.
Why would any boxer get up at the 5 second mark, or force himself up at the 2 second mark when he is clearly not ready? Maybe…
- to show he isn’t weak
- to not embarrass himself in front of his fans
- for money
- to impress someone
And what’s likely to happen when he gets up before he’s ready? He’s even more vulnerable to the next strike and may not be able to recover at all.
Do you really need to go back to work the day after your fiance ran off with your best friend just to show how strong you are?
Do you really need to go to your friend’s party the day after you got laid off to prove how unaffected you are?
Maybe, instead, you could just let yourself really feel it. Lie down on the mat and put your hands over your head and rest for as long as you can. Know that the next step IS coming. You will not feel catatonic forever, you will not feel like staring into space forever.
Sometimes, indulging your pain can help you move through it. Here’s how:
Stay Down. Stay Still.
Fired? Dumped? Left at the altar? Did your pet die? Were you rejected by your dream college? Missed the lotto by one number?
Take out your calendar and cancel as many things as you can. If you have sick days, take some. Maybe your head feels like it’s exploding, maybe you can’t stop crying. Whatever is happening, you are not thinking clearly and are in danger of doing something to make your situation worse.
Get in bed and stay there. Get up to use the bathroom, walk the dog, and pay your bills. Please don’t stop paying your bills. That will not make things better. If you have children, you may not have the luxury of this step and may need to skip right over it. I encourage you though to try and spend as much time as you can in this phase, even if all you can spare is a couple of hours.
Sit Up Slowly.
You will know when it’s time. It will be when you have literally run out of tears, run out of sick days, are bored of lying around, have reached level 987 of Candy Crush, and are feeling well rested and not like a wild animal.
Don’t overdo it. You are just going to move from your catatonic state to an upright position. Kind of like when you have the flu and start to feel like maybe you’re well enough now to sit up and watch Bravo or do online quizzes about what kind of potato you are.
You are now ready to take stock of what has happened to you. You may discover it is not as bad as you thought. You may also discover that it’s definitely as bad as you thought. Maybe it’s even worse. That’s ok. You are thinking more clearly now.
You are now going to intersperse planning with watching inspirational videos or reading inspirational books. Don’t laugh. It may sound a little woo woo, but just trust the process. Once, when I was in this stage, a friend recommended that I just stay in bed and watch Marie Forleo videos. After two days like this, I was full of ideas and motivation and ready to make some changes in my life. (Seriously, go check them out).
Slowly Stand Up.
Now, get up and start to move around again. Take it easy. You will spend time with friends, go on a date, apply for a new job, maybe go on an adventure while periodically stopping to sob/write letters you’ll never send/tend to your wounds/drink too much wine and continue to walk until those wounds are healed.
There are times when these losses will seem overwhelming and you may spend a very long time in one or more of these phases. That’s ok.
If this is you right now and you feel like your life is falling apart?
GO LIE DOWN.
Lie on the mat until you absolutely have to get up! Take time to gather your strength! And when you are ready (or your two year old needs dinner), you’ll be ready to fight another day.