I can hardly remember the beginning of this year.
What were my expectations for 2024? What did I hope would happen? The previous year had been difficult. Difficult enough that, last December, my team sent me off to the holidays with wishes for the break like, “I hope you laugh and experience joy. I hope you celebrate the small things. I hope you indulge in fun for fun’s sake.”
My Secret Santa gift that year was a beautiful, wooden journal with “Angela’s Words” carved on the front. I remember holding it in my hands, staring at the cover, imagining what it would be like to open the pages and find them filled with the wisdom of an older version of myself. What would she say? What wisdom would she offer? I remembered something my partner had said to me years earlier, and that I’ve heard others say since. “You are everything you need.” It seemed so cheesy to me at the time that I think I said something sarcastic in response. But looking down at that journal in my hands, it occurred to me that it might be true.
So, I started filling the pages with letters to myself.
Over the months, my letters became a way to practice a concept we refer to at Realized Worth as “noticing.” We all have different ideas of what it means to “notice.” Usually, it refers to learning to see, observe, or understand a reaction taking place within us or something happening in the environment around us. I wanted to learn to notice my habit of dismissing feelings of anger, frustration, or stress – particularly at work – because every time I did, I made mistakes or caused problems that could have been avoided. So, before meetings where I knew I might get frustrated, I sat down with my journal. And that’s all it took. “Dear Angela, You’re feeling anxiety right now. Your chest is tight and …” Inevitably, the meetings that took place afterwards were significantly more positive and productive. The practice has continued to benefit me and my team. I am becoming more attuned to my feelings and, more importantly, to the assumptions that drive them and the actions that result from them.
This practice of “noticing” is important at Realized Worth because the purpose of our work is to break down barriers between people, but that requires empathy – and empathy is hard work. Even when we’re intentionally seeking out situations that are meant to deepen our ability to relate with the world around us, life moves so fast that it becomes nearly impossible to notice anything beyond what’s necessary for survival. Human beings are faced with a near-constant barrage of signals to help us efficiently categorize what’s new, what’s different, what’s safe, what’s a threat – essentially, what’s worth noticing. If it’s not new? We’re likely not to notice it at all. When we’re not noticing, we’re reacting. We’re relying on instinct. (For the purposes of this article, I’m using the word “instinct” to capture the range of pre-conscious and unconscious reactions that we may have been taught explicitly, learned by observation, or inherited through DNA.)
Not noticing generally feels good. It feels like following your gut – which is to say, it feels right. You know that rush of cortisol and adrenaline that fills you with rage when another driver cuts you off on the highway? In the moment, it feels right to throw up a hand (or finger) while screaming at them about the rules of the road (and where they should stick their so-called driver’s license). It feels like self-protection. It feels like survival – and actually, it is. This is your job while driving, right? To stay safe on the road? To keep the other people in your car safe? And when you get cut off in the middle of a sentence at work? Depending on your relative sense of power, you may feel a similar rage. This also is self-protection. Survival.
While this ability to instinctually respond to perceived threats has kept us alive throughout human history, it developed at a time when early humans were literally trying not to get eaten. Now? The reaction is the same, but the environment is different. By the time we’re eight years old, often younger, we understand exactly what it takes to feel safe. Maybe you’re an oldest child and you were recruited by your caregivers to take on responsibility of your younger siblings. Each time you didn’t do exactly what was expected, your instincts (hormones released throughout the nervous system) kicked in like an alarm bell. Over time, you expertly adopted tactics that allowed you to avoid the alarm most of the time – so much so that it became your personality. To this day, you find yourself expecting others to follow your instructions and you resent them or become confused when they don’t. It’s not because you’re immature or petty; it’s because, for you, it’s survival. This is the role you were recruited to play. When you play the role well, you’re rewarded. You’re safe. And when you don’t? Your very identity is under threat.
Take me for example. I am a middle child. I grew up in an environment where I learned to avoid burdening anyone with my needs and where I was rewarded for looking after the needs of others. When I did those things well and consistently, I felt safe. But sometimes, even when I did those things well, I was not safe, and neither were my mom or brother. So, I tried harder. I realized that feelings often got in the way of what needed to be done. I began to build a storyline that said, “If you work hard enough, you and everyone around you will survive. If not, they won’t.” It was that simple. To this day, when I cannot find a way to work hard enough to meet the needs of my team, myself, and my family, I feel legitimately afraid. If I can’t play the role I was recruited into, why am I even here?
We come by our instincts honestly. From early human evolution to surviving in modern environments, our ability to react without noticing has kept us alive. And yet, it’s this same ability that threatens to keep us stuck. At work, I am still a middle child who solidified my understanding of my role in the world at seven years old. I am still reacting to perceived threats that are not actually threats at all. Slowly, through the practice of noticing, I’m learning that while this story feels safe and familiar, it no longer serves me. Instincts feel right, but they’re not always telling the truth. And if the only consequence of not noticing is that we’re all running around acting like children, so be it. What’s the worst that could happen? We’re a little annoying? We need to get a little more therapy? But this is not the only consequence.
This past November, the relative sense of safety for many people in the US and around the world decreased significantly. Some of my closest friends took the morning off on November 6th to sit down with their partners and force an honest conversation about what might happen. What will we do if we lose our right to remain married? What will we do if I lose my access to medication? If they eliminate my department at work? If I get deployed to the border? Wherever you land on the political spectrum, objectively, the impending administrative shift of the US government has caused a wave of fear and uncertainty.
At its core, this fear is not new. Proper healthcare in the US was already inaccessible to most people. Racism, homophobia, ableism, xenophobia, and sexism were already rampant. Companies were already performative in their commitments to diversity, equity, and inclusion. We are still a country that rose to wealth on the backs of enslaved Africans. It’s not a pretty picture, and unfortunately, we cannot, with complete accuracy, blame capitalism or the rich or the patriarchy or even the government. Blame has no place here. We are all complicit. But how would we know?
This is why the practice of noticing has become increasingly important to me, to Realized Worth, and to our work. Even when we’re intentionally seeking out situations that deepen our ability to relate with the world around us, life moves fast. It takes a lot of work to learn to observe and understand the reactions taking place within us and it can be counter-intuitive to truly see what’s happening in the environment around us. That’s okay. It’s normal, but it’s not enough because our instincts are not always trustworthy. We must do the work to influence our own evolution. The future of our species depends on it.
