On Not Knowing What to Say

I haven’t written anything for a while. Initially I blamed it on too much travel and not enough time, but about a week ago I noticed that I was actively avoiding anything that seemed productive. I would grudgingly have meetings and take care of maintenance tasks like budgeting, while being with my family, sleeping, and reading filled up most of my time.

Write an article or analyze a spreadsheet? Not happening. Stress out about my inbox and todo lists piling up? Happening. Cue anxiety. Escalate.

I suffered from clinical depression 25 years ago, and vividly remember what that was like. This was different. I tried to assess what was happening while meditating but had no flash of insight.

A couple more unproductive days later, I dragged my sorry ass into a yoga session and complained to my teacher, “Vicky, sorry if I seem a little out of it. I’ve been unmotivated this week.”

Vicky asked me if things were ok in my life, and I responded, “Yes, the world is a shitty place, but my life is ok.” It was an uncharacteristic statement from me because I’m pretty optimistic most of the time. But I’ve found the latest conflict between Israelis and Palestinians deeply troubling, on top of the existing conflict in Ukraine that also just won’t end.

As I made the statement, I realized that this wasn’t the first time I have had this particular feeling of dullness. I said to Vicky, “You know, I realize now that the last time I felt like this was after the twin towers collapsed on 9/11. I decided the world was a shitty place and I went to Kentucky Fried Chicken, ordered two 1 person dinners, ate the whole order, and then slept for 12 hours. I was completely unmotivated for weeks. I think maybe this is my body protesting.”

Vicky asked me, “Do you have any friends affected by what’s happening in Israel and Gaza? What have they said?”

I was embarrassed to have to reply, “No, I haven’t reached out to any of my friends with ties to the Middle East. It’s so damn complicated. I don’t know what to say.”

She told me, “Sanjay, you don’t have to know what to say. They’re your friends, just ask them if they’re ok, tell them you love them, and ask if they need anything.”

It sounds stupidly obvious as I write this, and I have no idea why I didn’t come to that conclusion on my own. Well actually I do - in a subsequent conversation with my IFS therapist, it became apparent that because of events in my own childhood, I had a reflex response of isolation in times of social danger. I was able to dig into it during the therapy session and reach some resolution, but here’s the amazing thing.

Immediately after Vicky made the comment about connecting with friends, I felt better. Immediately.

Like, that was completely the solution, some part of me knew that was the solution, but that part of me was silent and unable to help me rationally develop a plan to get motivated.

I went home, texted some friends I should have contacted days earlier, and my motivation problem was gone. As if I had snapped my fingers and waved a magic wand. No anti-depressants. No therapy. Just a flash of insight. What does that tell us about how psychology works and how much our current system of care is broken?

When conflict happens, when a friend or loved one is suffering, you don’t have to know the right words to solve the problem or make them feel better. You just have to tell them that you care about them. They’ll feel better. You’ll feel better.

How are you doing?

I love you.

Can I do anything to help?

Think the world is falling apart? The solution isn’t anger or isolation, it’s the exact opposite. Express compassion and create connection. What to say will come naturally.

1. Vicky’s yoga studio in Mississauga