In the movie Encanto, big sister Luisa sings about her ability to lift heavy objects on behalf of her family and community in the song Surface Pressure:
I'm the strong one, I'm not nervous
I'm as tough as the crust of the earth is
I move mountains, I move churches
And I glow 'cause I know what my worth is
When my family and I watched the movie, I found myself nodding during the entire song - and I am not the only one. I know so many people who resonated with this musical number: the person who is balancing obligations outside of the house with raising a family. The parent who is overseeing distance learning during a quarantine while also working full-time. The friend who needs to single handedly manage their household while their spouse isolates with COVID. We have all taken what we have been handed, without question, as we have held up our homes and our families and our workplaces and our communities through 22 months of an unprecedented reality.
But this work comes at a cost – Luisa sings:
Who am I if I don't have what it takes?
No cracks, no breaks
No mistakes, no pressure
Because balancing home and work and distance learning and pandemic fatigue and COVID infections and life comes at a cost. We have seen the mental health of many adults worsen, with self-reports of anxiety and depression increasing. According to Mental Health America, 19.85% of American adults experienced a mental health concern in 2019, whereas, according to the American Psychiatric Association (APA), 31% of Americans rated their mental health as “fair” or “poor” by the end of December 2021.
Over and over when I speak to parents, I am hearing echoes of the same sentiments. People who feel stuck, who feel pressure to be strong for their kids after (yet another) disappointment, or who feel like failures because there is no way to do all of this without making mistakes. As one mother told me, the number of things she coordinates and manages on a daily basis just for logistics related to her kids feels like superhero work. Another parent, who has been working towards launching her own business for the last five years, told me she can’t take the first step because she doesn’t know how to stop her kids’ needs from being “all consuming.” And I know the feeling deeply - running a school during a pandemic, caring for our community, ensuring staff well-being, and raising my own family can feel as big as two of those boulders Luisa effortlessly hoists onto her shoulders.
But wait
If I could shake the crushing weight of expectations
Would that free some room up for joy
Or relaxation, or simple pleasure?
It seems to me that many of us are feeling pressure like Luisa. And, like Luisa, the pressure is making us miserable. Perhaps we don't know how to put down tasks or how to stop doing the things we are doing, or perhaps we worry that by saying “no” we will disappoint those we love or those who count on us. So we remain stuck - in a pattern of doing for others, in carrying the weight of our responsibilities, in a rut without joy. This can feel terrible. It can also just feel like standing still - a paralysis that prevents us from making changes in our lives that would help ease the pressure.
And I think this is the critical question for us all to be asking ourselves right now – given that the last two years have especially asked us to step up in new ways, to live a new reality while also protecting one another from disease and death, how can we enter this next phase of living by shaking the crushing weight of expectations (from others or from ourselves) and reclaiming ownership and power of our happiness?
In December, I had a moment when I realized I was stuck. I didn’t have anything I could look forward to - we were headed into another COVID surge, we had no vacations or special events planned for a while – and I realized that I could not passively wait for joy and pleasure. I had to create things to look forward to. I had to actively seek things that would bring me simple pleasures, so I found a good book, a new TV show to binge, and a new recipe to try. It meant that I might do an hour less of work each day (I apologize if your email took a bit longer to get a response!) but by dialing down a bit of the pressure, I made room in my life for joy and relaxation. And of course, claiming those simple pleasures meant that I was in a better space to show up each day for my colleagues, for our community, and for my family.
These are lessons our children learn everyday at Pressman - how to find a resource to work through a fearful or challenging time, how to breathe and co-regulate when the world is overwhelming, and how to name feelings in order to tame them. And as the adults who are showing up each day for those children, it’s even more important that we can do this work. Because as we enter this next phase of our world, we need to release some of these pressures, and we, like Luisa, need to be willing to shake that crushing weight of expectations in order to actively seek opportunities for joy and pleasure.
