Stop Borrowing Other People's Emergencies
Do you grab a fire extinguisher, pull the pin, and aim in the general direction of the chaos whenever you hear a fire alarm?
Chances are, you don’t.
Chances are, your instinct—and what you’ve practiced since elementary school—is to get into groups at a safe distance, survey the situation, account for everyone, and then make a plan.
You’ve had fire drills in school, perhaps in college, and you’ve likely experienced at least one red truck at your office for a burned popcorn incident that will later be referred to as The Poppening and is an event that leaves its olfactory signature in the break room pantry still.
You’re able to discern the difference between something that is urgent, and something that is emergent.
Far fewer of us have ever experienced out of control fire in any vital capacity.
It’s interesting to note that those among us who have experienced these types of dire straits are often the most level-headed and quick-processing in these drills or alarms.
But I don’t want you to have to be in a house fire or a war zone to glean the lesson that can help you get to a similar place of level-headedness.
I just want you to hear me when I say: a key to self-care and reimagining your legacy is to learn the difference between urgency and emergency—and refuse to borrow either.
And like, sure, you might think, “Who the fuck borrows emergency? Why would anyone want that if they don’t have to have it?”
At which point I will direct you to ER, and it’s unbelievably evolved and sexy older sibling, The Pitt. I will direct you to the fascination with the Titanic shipwreck, to playing the Oregon Trail, even to the board game Operation!
And then I’ll dig into definitions (by me, not Merriam OR Webster).
Urgency—which comes from the Latin verb “urgere” which means to urge, or to pressure, or to drive—means the alarm bell ringing, bringing your attention to something that can or will become an issue.
Emergency—which also comes from a Latin verb (“emergere” which is to rise out, or bring to light)—means the actual fire licking away at the building you’re in.
Knowing the difference in your day-to-day life can help you excuse yourself from frenetic, harried energy that depletes you and isn’t even yours. If you don’t borrow urgency or emergency, you can remain entirely unburnt. #extendedfiremetaphor
(Lots of you don’t even have to borrow this kind of energy, you make your own from scratch, and that’s its own thing altogether that we will also get to!!! I DIGRESS—)
Let’s take the example of your twelve-year-old giving the ol’ wailing and gnashing of teeth because their uniform isn’t ready for practice on a Thursday night.
It’s time to leave for 6:00pm practice, the uniform isn’t dry yet because they didn’t choose to start the washing machine until 4pm, and they’re having a big emotional response.
You have some choices here:
You can borrow this emergency and make your nervous system believe that your child not keeping track of their uniform and planning head is an actual life-or-death situation. Run and fetch your high-speed hair dryer, listening to your kid screech above the whir as you try to dry their uniform in time to leave for practice and not be late. Participate in the pandemonium.
You can refuse to borrow the energy of emergency and do the following:
- Offer two options NEUTRALLY: “You can wear the uniform damp or you can wear something else and tell your coach you will be sure to have your uniform ready when you need it next time.”
- Accept whichever option they choose without any attachment to either one whatever.
- Don’t bother telling them it’s not the end of the world. They’re practicing emotions. This is the most consequential thing that’s happened to them today and maybe even all week. You can internalize that this isn’t an emergency without minimizing their emotional roller coaster.
- Remember that your kid is twelve. They can manage their clothes, most especially for things they are doing for fun like sports or dance. They’ve been capable for years, actually. So stand back and expect them to be—then allow them to be—capable.
Same thing with adults, buttttt with grown-ups you can be a little more direct and eventually even pointed.
People at work acting like alligators are running toward them, jaws-open? Ask yourself if they have an urgent situation, an emergent situation, or neither. Because a lotttttt of the time, it’s a situation created by the actions of people who know exactly what will happen.
Other people waiting until the last minute to complete things is not urgency or emergency. It’s literally just poor planning. And you don’t have to participate in that energy. In fact, you can and should call it in. Especially if you’re managing others.
Or maybe it’s your mom, who volunteered to host the Memorial Day dinner, but is now using that as an excuse to freak out about her back deck that’s needed painting for years. It will be fine for another weekend, and she could easily hire someone to repaint it prior to the dinner, and she’s choosing to freak out about it and expecting you to follow suit.
Just…stop.
My mom used to say, “Failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine,” and that’s what got me to thinking about this particular tenet of the Occupational Sector of Self in the first place.
I’m not sure where she got it; it’s certainly not her original idea, but saying it out loud and with frequency certainly was original in the middle and high schools where she employed the phrase.
We are often taught that attunement will save us, without ever saying out loud that attunement and adopting every energy of everyone around us is not the same thing.
Stick around, because next week we are talking about what to do with all that time you free up after opting out of people's bullshit! 🤗
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