How To Recognize Your Emotional Brake

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

I was given a small card at the beginning of a workshop. It posed this question as an icebreaker:

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

This was the beginning of a working group planning day. However, the two presenters didn’t know any of us very well hence the icebreaker exercise.

We were employed in a unit together, but never in a consistently cohesive nor supportive fashion. The unit workload was highly unpredictable and driven by unstable emotions of our own, the local and organizational hierarchy demands and the highly emotional people we interacted with continuously.

We were holding the workshop to work on some of these issues.

I thought it was a great question. A great question for self-contemplation, reflection, self-analysis. And in any other group, I would answer joyfully, confidently and with passion. And without fear.

Am I a predictable person who never tries anything new? No. Definitely not.

Am I terrified of new experiences? Not really. Maybe a little trepidation.

Cindi Rooney wrote an article on Medium (November 30, 2018), with the same question she found in a list. In her article, Cindi challenged herself beyond her comfort zone. She said her risk was her social anxiety; putting herself ‘out there’.

That was her emotional brake.

She wrote, “…I had never taken the time or allowed myself to feel the pride and satisfaction that comes from accomplishing something difficult for the first time. It was an awesome feeling.”

I agree.

Do you have an emotional brake preventing you from moving forward with new ventures? Are you afraid to risk being judged, feeling vulnerable?

Are you missing the wonderful exhilarating euphoria of success, satisfaction and being filled with pride for your efforts?

What is your story?

The experience I chose to recall was because I wanted a positive example I could spin, something I accomplished for myself which made me proud without being boastful.

I didn’t want to answer with a negative experience. Or to tell of a terrifying experience. Or answer with any negativity at all. I didn’t want to appear vulnerable or show I lacked control in any aspect of my life.

I cover vulnerability well. I wouldn’t reveal something felt so privately.

This group of colleagues wasn’t the company where I could reveal any insecurities. I wasn’t safe to show vulnerability in this environment. I didn’t want to disclose it to my colleagues. Not all were friendly, nor friends.

I was more uncomfortable about the risk of being judged by this group than being truthful in disclosing an experience because it frightened me. This was my emotional brake at the time. Fear of judgment in a hostile environment.

Let me tell you a little story about the time not long before the workshop.

Is your dream one of a home on acreage?

Me too. I purchased a few acres on a hill in the country. I invested in an architectural software program to design plans for a house. When I was happy with the plans, I had a draftsman formalize them and engaged a builder to build the house for me.

I didn’t recognize this as a fearful or anxiety-ridden activity. I took it on as a project and planned my strategy accordingly.

I was so excited. I had the final image embedded in my mind. I lived in the house in my head.

This was my project. I felt protective of it. I’d never done something as big as this on my own.

I was always very confident. I gathered experts so I didn’t have to become one. There was much to research and stages to plan. Nevertheless, I never felt overwhelmed.

I felt innervated. It wasn’t about having to control everything. Although I thrived on the ownership of the project and the process of success.

I wasn’t as familiar with the idiosyncrasies of the building trades. Luckily, a friend told me it was a tradition for the owner to put on celebratory drinks for the workers when the roof was raised. This was due to happen in two days.

I hoped he was telling me the truth because I did as he suggested. Any excuse to celebrate great achievements with prawns on the barbeque and toasting the progress with beer.

Are you energized by projects?

I tackled everything as I usually do; by educating myself, being assertive and negotiating carefully. I really didn’t see any problems I couldn’t overcome.

Neuroscientists have pointed out how our brains can be energized by novel and challenging experiences, and how we produce dopamine when this happens. This drug helps us to solve problems and helps us to maintain a healthier brain. Dopamine has a major effect on our motivation, our pleasure and especially our cognitive ability.

My house being built was a new adventure for me. These activities brought me satisfaction through accomplishment and happiness because I didn’t realize what big achievements they were until the project was finished.

On time, on budget, without any lasting problems.

I loved the group of guys who worked with the builder. I tried to keep out of their way, but they wanted to be collaborative and invited me to keep in touch and visit the site regularly. They wanted to be sure I liked what was happening.

I learned so much over those busy months. It was a marvelous midlife adjustment of a new role for me. I was so inspired by this new role. My plans coming together. This success in midlife was timely for me.

I read about a resounding expert in midlife reinventions who inspires women around the world with her Powerful Me Program. Her name is Susan Tolles and Susan says she loves the question, “…when was the last time you did something for the first time because it reminds me that I need to be learning new things and experiencing new adventures”.

Another inspiring woman I can admire is Charlotte Beers, who featured in the Texas Conference for Women this year. Charlotte challenged the audience by noting, “One day you will need to know: what is the highest form of who you can be? It’s not necessarily where you are today.”

I don’t think I’m there yet. I think I’m still a work in progress, despite fears I hold inside.

Are your achievements what you expected?

I don’t believe we appreciate who we are, nor what we may achieve until we retrospectively have the vision of ourselves.

When I hear about stories of house building disasters from other people, I just believed I was lucky.

When I recounted how I managed some tricky issues with the local council authorities, people were amazed at how I could stand my ground with my evidence and not make any concessions.

When I spoke about my research and processing experience in purchasing an acre of Crown Land adjacent to my block of land, again people were amazed when things went smoothly. A great price per acre and then surveyed as being part of my land.

I just believed I was lucky.

What I planned happened.

It was exciting.

Arriving home was always a pleasure as I surveyed my modest kingdom with sloping mowed grass and the beginnings of beloved friendship gardens and rock terraces I had built.

What was my answer to the question?

I read the icebreaker question aloud.

When was the last time I did something for the first time?

One participant suggested it would have to be building my house.

No, it wasn’t the success or pleasure I felt designing a home for myself. It did give me pleasure and pride in success through managing an almost seamless process. My actions or performance in undertaking those activities was how I worked in a previous life. This management role came easily to me, and although the project was new and personal, the skills are the same.

What was my answer? My answer to the question was more meaningful to me than managing a project. It was overcoming a long-standing fear.

It was learning to use my ride-on mower when I had no previous experience nor inclination.

There’s the midlife adjustment or reinvention again.

I told my story positively. I left out a lot of what I’m telling now. I wanted to be the person who was in control. Not vulnerable at all. Fear? Never.

Just learning a midlife skill. A skill I’m now excelling in and loving it.

I lied. Well, not exactly. Not quite full disclosure.

I spoke about having so much fun learning. How I was a little nervous at first.

How nervous? Terrified!

I was as frightened as I’d ever been in my life. I don’t do carnival rides because of my fear. When I feel the fear, it’s not fun.

I read the manual three times. Each time I read it, the paragraph about people my age needing to be extra careful as they have more accidents than anyone else was still there.

I hadn’t yet turned the key. I’m a very careful midlifer.

I was frightened. I reversed it out of the garage, down the slope and stopped, frozen, eyeing the sky. I couldn’t move it forward or turn it. I had to cut the motor, disengage the gears and push it back up the hill.

I did this for three consecutive days. The grass was growing taller.

Then I called a cherished friend to come and help me until I gained some confidence. No judgment, no laughter, just support. And drinks following, overlooking the half-mowed grass.

This was a comfortable space in which to learn.

Sure, there’s some fear depending on what’s the challenge. Perhaps for you, it’s more trepidation than actual fear.

The tension, the feeling of being aware as your heart beats faster, more forcefully in your chest. Your mouth feeling just a little bit drier. A tiny tremble in your legs, the tension in your back.

The sensations I remember of learning to mow, take me straight back to the memory. I can see myself in the experience.

The emotions you feel with any new experience are also imposed as expressions and body language.

For me, remembering my jaw clenching just a little as I lean tentatively into turns.

I was slow at first when I was mowing, especially on the slopes. Being aware of the tingle of nervous excitement within my new achievement. The anticipation before it happens as I walk out to climb on the mower.

Then I’m exposed to wholeheartedly throwing myself into the activity, feeling the joy, experiencing the marvel.

Then I reveled in it.

I learned what the fun part of it was all about. This wasn’t a chore to dislike; this was fun. My grass didn’t grow fast enough.

I loved the exhilaration, the feeling of achieving and the satisfaction of seeing the job well done. I invested in a little wagon to pull along rather than a wheelbarrow for moving rocks. I was so pleased to tame my fear.

I delighted in roaring around like a kid in a Dodgem car.

Now I’m no longer in an environment contaminated with conflicting beliefs, jealousies and dominating personalities. I can breathe again. I can allow myself to be vulnerable and reap the benefits of disclosing comfortably among friends.

The emotional brake for me was the environment where I worked. I couldn’t be true to myself.

As Cindi said, and I echo,

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

How did it make you feel?

Can you recognize your emotional brake?