The bully librarian

It's a strange kind of anxiety, sure, but still worthy of the same care

Dear Friends,

The other morning, I was driving our younger pup, the rambunctious Satchmo, to his vet appointment when an interview with Michael Pollan cued itself up on my podcast list. His book, The Omnivore’s Dilemma, was a game changer for Theresa and me both.

As the interview got going, they touched on a number of his other books – Botany of Desire, How to Change Your Mind, and his latest which is about consciousness itself (!!!), A World Appears.

I noticed a familiar unsettledness inside of me as I listened. I wanted to read them all. Immediately… though I’m reading wonderful books currently… and I have a vague sense of what I want to read next, books that are already scattered around my house – a pile on the coffee table, another on my bedside table, and the shelf in my office which is ostensibly my To Read shelf.

My next thought was: Put them on my To Read spreadsheet.

Yes, I do have such a thing.

It is currently 382 titles long. Roughly. A few of the lines are Anything by AUTHOR NAME.

I have made myself stop using it. Once it got that long, it ceased to be useful anyway.

Also: It’s feeding something in me, something I don’t mean to feed.

A discontent.

An attachment.

A should.

There was a time in my 30s when the existential dread that arose for me around books – more specifically, the reality that I could never read all the books, even if I narrow it down to the books that I really want to read – was so profound that I stopped going into bookstores and libraries.

I didn’t want to find anything else that I wanted to read and might not ever be able to get to.

Around that same time, I also subscribed to a wonderful site called Paperback Swap which worked something like this:

1. List all the books you have that you’re willing to send to whoever wants it; the sender pays for postage and receives a point on the site.

2. List all of the books you want to receive; when they come available, you have the option to request that book in exchange for a point.

There’s a little more to it but that’s the bones. And it provided some relief: putting the books I wanted on there felt like doing something with my book lust while also randomizing my reading. Whatever happened to show up was what showed up. No decisions required.

Theoretically.

Except, the books stacked up. I still had to decide from among what I had requested.

I hadn’t resolved the dread, the discontent, the attachment, the should.

I had medicated it.

Postponed it.

So what?

It’s a fair question, thanks for asking.

What I’m describing is a form of anxiety and anxiety is a lot like the stereotype of a 50s schoolyard bully: So long as we give in to its demands, the bully is empowered to keep bullying, to even increase its demands.

But once we stand up to the bully?

Well, it often gets worse first. The bully might punch us up a bit, if we’re being honest.

Then, the bully gets bored. We’ve deprived it of satisfaction.

Everything just sort of settles down.

While I haven’t looked at any data, I think it’s fair to guess that anxiety is at a meaningful increase, both as a society and within you. And you. And you. And certainly me.

Anxiety demands placating – more scrolling or more avoidance. More food or more alcohol. More porn or more games. More of anything that will get the bully off our back as soon as possible, which is almost never the same action that will get us a longer lasting relief from the bully.

I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of handing over my lunch money.

I don’t want to miss any more of this brief life, not even the parts that stir discomfort it me.

So, I practiced defying the bully: I noticed the grasping, needy feeling as I was driving us home from the vet, the way that my brain suggested reviving that old spreadsheet, even toyed with just going ahead and placing an order – I mean, I do like supporting my local indie bookstore…

Then I reminded myself that this was a feeling that would pass. I might read it, I might not, and I’ll continue to have a perfectly lovely life either way.

In this moment, I still want to read it – getting rid of wanting to read it was never the point – but my stomach isn’t knotting in that want, my hands aren’t grasping for the info in that tome, and the spreadsheet is still safely tucked away.

More to the point: yesterday, Theresa and I talked about our fear over breakfast, the fear of what is happening in our country and world and what it might require of us as people unwilling to sit idly by. It was a more transparent conversation on the topic than we’ve had in a little while.

We both got teary.

We both felt some relief.

Not resolution, of course, but the relief of having said the scary things, of having heard ourselves and been heard by our beloved on things that sometimes feel too daunting to say.

The relief of having defied anxiety once again.

And you, friends? What stirs your anxiety and attachment to an alleged “need”? What might you gain if you could endure the bully’s punch in exchange for your freedom?

(Spoiler: You can.)

With love and gratitude for all you are,
SB

p.s. If you haven’t already heard, the next No Kings demonstrations will be on Sunday, March 28. Find yours here.

After 12+ years of coaching people around their fear and obstacles, I can promise you that, pretty consistently, the overwhelming feeling people experience after standing up to their bully for the first time is amazement: It was so much easier, and brought so much more relief, than they anticipated.

If you’re curious, my coaching always starts with a free consult for a mutual vibe check.

I have a price level to fit every budget. Every. Last. One.

Photo by Laura Kapfer