Strapping on the Nitro

by John Perrodin

Another day and another quick check in the mirror. My hair is combed as well as I can manage. The silk tie is taut and ultra-professional. I've remembered my belt, and my shoes match. But then I shift so I can get a side view to be sure the canisters are in place.

They are. Strapped tightly to my back is a well-used pack filled with gleaming silver tubes of nitroglycerine. Satisfied with the look I've achieved, it's off to the office for another round of tough decisions, opportunities for leadership growth, and questions about everything from A to Z and then some.

Funny thing, I knew that this special cargo was part of the job when I signed on, but I still have trouble getting used to it being there. With one wrong move I could blow sky high. But there are bills to pay, college educations to save for, and that precious two-week vacation still ringing up daily interest on the charge card. So, after quick kisses and hearty good-byes, I step out the door and into the work world. Others are impressed by my assured posture and the fearless speed with which I race from meeting to meeting. It's almost as though they don't notice the cans of explosive on my back. They are packing their own burdens. As we pass in the hallways, balancing our designer coffees, we're careful not to bump. Wouldn't want any of that precious fuel to drip onto the carpeting.

Of course, I don't really carry nitro around on my back, but many days that's exactly what work stress feels like. Others in the office are all fishing for the same compliments and trying to get their share of a limited bonus pool. It's not healthy, and I know it, but it's tough getting off the treadmill when there's a long line of others ready to push into my spot.

I believe there's more to life than living for whatever shallow, short-lived praise an employer or institution can offer. There's today when you come across a friend who's troubled and in pain, there's tonight when the kids are excited to play a game with a dad who's too tired to last through dinner. And there are the few moments alone with your beloved spouse. How you respond to each one of those opportunities depends on what you've got left after another day of striving and stress. If the personal store of empathy is empty, the platitude €œI gave at the office € takes on a whole new meaning.

The job is but one source of stress. To be honest, it can be tough keeping things running smoothly at home, too. There's the stress of being a good dad for the kids who love and need me. I want them to remember a father who was there for them. But it's tiring, and my selfish urges threaten to overwhelm me when I must choose between doing something for them and something for me. More than being available for the fun extras, I realize how important it is for me to be around when it's discipline time. It's easy to be the Good Humor Man passing out treats, but much more difficult to be the one who holds the line and keeps the children on the right path. That's stressful, but it's also crucial work.

Nurturing my wife is also a key responsibility as husband. Even when times are busy and everything seems to be happening at once, I want to be the one to encourage and help. I want my wife to know that I always love her not just with my words, but with my willingness to pitch in and stand beside her in sickness and health, in the good and the bad. Being sensitive to every kind of need is another challenge that could fit in the stress category, but again, it's a good kind of stress.

Finally, I want to be a true friend to the faithful companions old and new who have given me some of their valuable time and made it clear that our relationship matters. Finding a few snatches of the day to keep in touch, bolster someone in need, or listen to problems is just one more way that I can be a person who cares and someone who means what I say. It's easy to offer a glib greeting in the hallway, but it takes something out of you to put meaning behind the words.

Even exercise, eating right and getting enough sleep can be a stressor in my life. Everyone else seems to have it so together with regular exercise programs and weight loss plans. But I can't decide what's right for me based on what €œeveryone else € is doing. It doesn't work that way. If all I can manage is a walk in the evening after dinner, great. Doing nothing isn't an option, but worrying about keeping a rigid schedule will probably cause as much stress as the actual workout will alleviate. Same goes for volunteering at church, in Sunday School, and at the soup kitchen downtown. Becoming irritable from exhaustion isn't worth it for myself, my wife or my kids.

I've found that it's often up to me how much nitro I'll decide to bear on any given day. I have my limits, but despite knowing what I can and can't handle, I may take on a bigger burden than I should because I want to look good for the boss and my co-workers. How else can I impress unless I'm tearing around at warp speed balancing my backpack while juggling but remaining completely €œin control € at all times?

In the long run, the answer is learning to say no. And asking for help when you need it. Another key to reducing stress is making sure you know what others expect of you and vice versa. If your family is important to you, show it by making time for family fun. Turn off the TV, ignore the phone. This is how I make the €œfirst things € truly first in my life and prove my priorities have teeth.

Stress is what you make it. Whether you allow it to drive you toward what's good and significant in your life, or keep you from it, is your own choice.

Maybe it's time to unload some of the nitro. It's not easy and feels so comfortable there tight against my shoulder blades. But I know there are other ways to get things done than having something as dangerous as stress pushing me around.