We’ll Figure It Out

Samantha's family has been through more than most people experience in a lifetime.

Her daughter developed epilepsy.
Her husband was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia.
There were blood clots, paralysis, insurance battles, months in the hospital, and countless moments where she didn't know what would happen next.

As I listened to her story, I expected to be most impressed by her advocacy.

And don't get me wrong, she is an incredible advocate.

When doctors told her it would be months before her daughter could see a neurologist, she said, "That's not good enough."

When her husband's breathing suddenly changed and she knew something wasn't right, she kept pushing until someone listened. It turned out his lungs were filled with blood clots.

But what struck me even more was how she managed her state through all of it.

One of the most beautiful lessons came from a nurse helping her daughter process difficult emotions.

She told Shelby to imagine a roller coaster.

As you're climbing the hill, feel the sadness.
Feel the anger.
Feel the fear.

Hold those emotions.
Embrace them.

And then when you reach the top, let them go and enjoy the ride down.

I love that.

Not because it tells us to ignore difficult emotions.

Quite the opposite.

It gives us permission to feel them fully without getting stuck in them.

As I listened, I couldn't help laughing at myself.

This week I spent about 90 minutes completely worked up over a new online banking portal.

Seriously.

I couldn't get the authenticator app to work.
I couldn't get anyone to give me my new account number.
I was on hold.
I was frustrated.
I was convinced the entire process was ridiculous.

Poor Tom got to enjoy every minute of my spiral.

Eventually I drove to the branch and talked to a very kind employee.

He didn't actually solve my problem that day.

He didn't have my account number.
He didn't magically make the portal work.

What he did was listen, care, and promise to help me figure it out.

I immediately felt better.

And that's when I realized something a little embarrassing.

I had just spent 90 minutes making myself miserable over a banking portal.

Not a life-threatening illness.
Not a family emergency.
Not a crisis.

A banking portal.

Yes, the kind employee helped.

Yes, Tom was incredibly patient with me.

But if I'm being honest, I never needed to spend those 90 minutes worked up in the first place.

The portal was annoying.

But I was the one creating the suffering.

Two days later, I sat down to work on the exact same problem.

The portal hadn't changed.
The process hadn't changed.
I still didn't have all the information I needed.

What changed was me.

This time, I reminded myself:

"We'll figure it out."

I was kinder to the customer service representatives.

I was more patient with the process.
And I stopped acting like a temporary inconvenience was a catastrophe.

Looking back, I realized I had been spending precious emotional energy on something that simply didn't deserve it.

And that's what struck me about Samantha.

She was saving her emotional energy for things that actually mattered.

When life presented a real crisis, she showed up.
She advocated.
She cried when she needed to.
She leaned on faith, family, and friends.

But she wasn't wasting energy fighting reality.

That's a lesson I'm still working on.

Maybe positivity isn't pretending everything is okay.

Maybe it's trusting yourself to handle whatever comes next.

And maybe one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves is:

Does this situation deserve the amount of emotional energy I'm giving it?

Hit reply and let me know what you think. I'd love to hear from you.

With love,
Ariel