Why do we yield to a torrent of mental anguish and work-based strain before we ask for help? What makes us believe that we have to hold an unbearable and impossible load alone? When we know that the unspoken expectation to "soldier on" serves the folks at the top of the proverbial layer cake and definitely not us, why do we do it? And how can we stop?
All useful questions to consider, and I encourage you to reflect on your own answers, but for the most part, I'd say they're not the primary focus when it comes to moving on skillfully, because a) we know the answers already (cultural conditioning, capitalism, social pressure, systemic inequality, etc), and yet we carry on regardless, which leads me to b) the realm of "why" can lead us to conceptualising, excusing, ruminating, lamenting and bemoaning. Whereas the more constructive and change-making approach is to ask: what now, what do I/we need to do differently, how can I/we help to make things better?
On doing hard things & feeling our feelings
I love second hand books. I love all books in fact. But there's something uniquely special about a book that's been leafed through, pondered over and passed along. A sense of which, if you're lucky, comes through from the marginalia and love notes within the folds.
These are the words on the inside cover of my pre-loved copy of Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche's The Joy of Living: "Dear Zach, If it's hard....do it! All the best, Wyan". My 11-year-old niece and I were sat reading our separate books in the garden recently when she asked me what my book was about. She noticed the inscription, which sparked a conversation about doing things that challenge us, and how navigating life's undulations does indeed, like the subtitle suggests, unlock the secret and science of happiness.