What are you carrying into the next thing?

Last week I spent several hours editing the video of my interview with Amanda Manoa, a wildlife rehabilitator at Greenwood Wildlife Rehabilitation Sanctuary.

Then I ignored almost everything she taught me.

Which is kind of funny...

except it isn't.

Amanda has one of those jobs I can't even imagine.

She works with injured and orphaned wild animals.

And sometimes, the kindest thing she can do is euthanize an animal so it doesn't keep suffering.

Wow . . .

On Amanda’s 21st birthday she started an internship at a zoo in Denmark.

She didn't speak the language well enough to understand everything happening around her.

Someone handed her the lead rope of a horse.

She stood there petting his neck, telling him everything was going to be okay.

And then they shot him.

She had no idea that was about to happen.

She wasn't in charge.

She was just there.

Holding the rope.

Trying to be kind . . . double wow . . .

Years later, Amanda now teaches volunteers and staff about compassion fatigue.

In the animal world, that often means secondary trauma.

The sadness you absorb from suffering you couldn't stop.

The hard decisions.

The angry phone calls from people who don't understand why you did what you did.

Amanda has learned that you can't just shove those feelings down and move on.

You have to feel them.

And then you have to find a way to release them.

For Amanda, that often means water.

Getting on her paddleboard.

Standing in a hot shower and crying.

Letting the emotion move through her body instead of pretending it isn't there.

That reminded me of Samantha's episode, when her daughter was told to ride the roller coaster of her emotions.

Feel them on the way up.

Then release them on the way down.

Different image.

Same wisdom.

Last week, I needed something like that.

And I skipped it.

The day started with a wonderful conversation with my management team.

Then one of our longtime clients questioned whether we deserved the commission we'd worked years to earn.

Ouch.

It wasn't just the money.

It was feeling unappreciated.

As a team, we talked through how we wanted to handle it.

Not perfectly.

Not magically.

But thoughtfully.

And before we moved on, I even told my team what Amanda had taught me.

Go take a few minutes.

Find your water.

Do the thing that helps you feel better before you jump into the next part of your day.

Then the meeting ended.

What should I have done?

Walked around the yard.

Looked at the flowers.

Fed one of my squirrel friends.

Given myself a few minutes to feel what had just happened before moving on.

Instead...

I ran to the bathroom...

answered six emails...

and jumped on my next call.

Then another.

Then another.

By the time I met one-on-one with another teammate, something happened that normally wouldn't have bothered me.

My feelings got hurt.

I wasn't my best.

And it had very little to do with that conversation.

It had everything to do with what I had carried into it.

That night I realized something that has been sitting with me ever since.

I owe my team an apology.

Not because I expect myself to be perfect.

But because I want to be someone who shows up well for the people I care about.

Amanda said there are times she can't deal with a difficult emotion right away.

In those moments, she tells the feeling:

I see you.

I acknowledge you.

I'll deal with you later.

Not never.

Later.

That's the part I missed last week.

I didn't need an hour.

I didn't need a paddleboard.

I didn't need a dramatic emotional breakthrough.

I probably needed five minutes.

So over the next few weeks, I'm going to experiment.

Maybe my version is walking around the yard.

Maybe it's feeding the squirrels.

Maybe it's stretching between meetings.

Maybe it's standing outside for a few quiet minutes before the next call.

I don't know yet.

But I do know this:

I don't want to carry one meeting into the next.

Or one disappointment into the next conversation.

Or yesterday into today.

So I'd love to know...

What's your water?

What helps you feel what needs to be felt...

and then let it go?

Let me know! I have a feeling we can help each other build a pretty great list.

With love,

Ariel