The right food at the right time can give you nearly everything you need. In my case, I was back at the Beer Bus and had just pounded a tuna burrito from Saint Burrito. The balled-up tinfoil and a stained napkin were being held down by what remains of my beer.

I had just come out of the gym and needed a late lunch/ refuel. Protein, carbs, a bit less fat than your normal burrito, and 5% alcohol to help soothe the muscles. Beer doesn’t get enough credit as a post-workout beverage if it’s consumed within reason. John L. Sullivan, the legendary “knock out king” of 19th Century Boston, had an equally legendary drinking problem. All his work and fighting couldn’t keep his daily Kidney Pickling from turning his muscles slack and flabby. “Moderation in everything, including Moderation,” says verbal knock-out king Oscar Wilde.

Moderation in work is trickier right now. I’d told myself I was going to hit the gym after work for some cardio and/or a weights day every day that week, but it never happened. My gym bag- with shoes, socks, clothes, lifting gear, everything but excuses- sat in the back seat all week like an accusatory child watching their stepdad make “a quick trip in” to see their bookie.

“Portland Dining Month” hit my team and I like a truck. We’ve only just gotten our feet back under us after a coinciding menu flip, and the boss dragged us into the conference room to figure out what was wrong. It took a lot of composure to not explain- physically AND verbally- that it was 70% decisions from upper management and 30% him pulling us away from our work to answer for said decisions.

“Moderation in all things”… including the desire to defenestrate one’s management.

That was the past week though. I’d sweated for the day, paid my tribute to the Iron Gods, and my bosses’ voice had been replaced by the chatter of bar patrons and the crinkling of a burrito wrapper. The combination of Exercise, Good Food, and friendly company (briefly) altered my desire for the moon to crash into the Pacific Ocean.

It’s a bad fucking sign when you realize how susceptible you are to your surroundings. The usual barriers shored up by equanimity, mindfulness, and self-discipline start to wear down if you’re never given the time to rest, reflect, and repair the damage. It’s even worse if you are neurodivergent. The energy reserves you count on to mask among neurotypicals or to push back against your own thoughts are already taxed. If it looks like someone “just went from zero to 90” suddenly, you probably didn’t know how long they’d been holding it down at 85 with a straight face.

That susceptibility to my surroundings came up in therapy not long ago. It’s not OCD. That’s a very specific diagnosis that doesn’t apply to me and can look very different from being “anal retentive,” “Type 1,” “being a neat freak,” or the other pop psychology jargon people use. For me, it’s that when I am already exhausted, it’s harder for me to just let things go. Consequently, I need to feel in control of a calm space in order to calm down and recharge. I take time alone, I clean the house, I organize my desk- whatever it takes to create a space that feels safe.

I don’t like knowing about this particular weakness of mine, but it’s good to know about it. It’s a gap in the metaphorical armor that I’m aware of and can now address. That’s what good therapy does- it doesn’t “cure” what’s going on with you. It helps you find problems, gives you terminology to explore them, and design tools to address them.

“There are many treasures embedded in the earth—gold, silver and diamonds—but if you don’t know where to dig, you’ll just hit rocks, mud and dirt. A Rebbe is a geologist of the soul; he can tell you what to dig for and point you in the direction of where to dig for it . . . but the actual digging you must do for yourself”

– Yosef Yitzak Scheerson, the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe

Stoic philosophy, despite what macho dude-bros claim, doesn’t say “shut down all emotions and stop feeling things.” In fact, it says “Feel things, be honest with yourself about them, then consciously decide how you will react.” For a Stoic, my illustration of “shoring up defenses” is accurate. For Stoicism, every person’s mind is their fortress they can take refuge in and decide what they do or do not want to let disturb it. Fabulous advice… if you can make it work for you on the regular.

I’m not a Stoic, though I imagine I play one nicely in the kitchen when all goes well. I don’t like thinking I need “walls,” and I also don’t like realizing how quickly and messily those defenses can fall just because I’m tired. It’s another reminder that I’m a silly, flawed human. There shouldn’t be any shame in that either- but here we are.

Knowing what bothers you and what gets to you is the first step in addressing it and dealing with it. Shame stops that process and serves nothing.

What can be more human, more healing, more acceptable, than looking after yourself, getting some rest, having a burrito and a beer, and meeting some nice people? Legally, it blows defenestration out of the water.

Stay Classy,