Stress: Why you can’t “shake it off” like Taylor Swift, but animals can.
“Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off” — Taylor Swift
“But, T-Swift,” you say, “sometimes I just can’t shake it off.”

What about animals (the non-human kind)?
Zebras shake-off the stress of near death encounters with cheetahs all the time. A few moments later, they are back to grazing. Their speed of recovery from a life-threatening experience is fast (So fast, that it inspired neurobiologist, Robert Sapolsky, to title his book on managing stress: Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers).
In comparison, you get cut off in traffic and you’re fuming…for hours.
What makes your stress stick around?
(Full disclosure: I’m not a doctor, scientist, biologist, psychiatrist, etc. I’m a guy who is really, really into studying ways in which stories and breathing impact and improve lives.)
Your human body is very similar to that of a zebra (and most mammals for that matter). You have a nervous system, similar organs, hormones, etc. — just like the zebra.
So why do you get hung up on events far less scary than being eaten alive?
We aren’t physiologically less adept at managing stress than other mammals. We simply have a capacity to disrupt stress management that other mammals don’t — our capacity to create stories.
Stories that define us as victims of external circumstances. Stories that we loop again and again in our heads. Stories that take root in our minds and place limitation on what we deem possible in our worlds.
These stories can take root in our physiology — making your breathing shallow and putting your nervous system on high-alert long after the stress has passed.
What’s more, we spread this victim mindset to other humans. We even infect other humans with this stressed-out state by using these stories to bond with them. We complain about stuff as a way to break-the-ice and form relationships.
Have you ever seen a zebra vent to (or bond with) fellow zebras over how evil cheetahs are? (Spits out his grass and says: “…And don’t even get me started on lions!”)
We humans do this. I have done this.
Our capacity to worry about the future and obsess over the past is far greater than that of most mammals. (Note: This article focuses on the negative side of this capacity; the other side is profoundly empowering, more on that later.)
We revisit painful experiences [i.e., our interpretation of them (i.e., our story of them)] days or decades after they happened.
“Don’t retreat into story.”
— Tim Ferriss speaking in reference to processing past trauma.
These stories become a lens through which we view the world. Our perception may narrow to a degree that we only see evidence of our stories.
Can you just push those stories out of your head? Maybe try focusing on something else…distract yourself?
Eventually, you realize that doesn’t work. Resistance is pain.
WHAT CAN YOU DO?
You can extract the venom from your stories by working through them.
You are responsible for your story.
No one else.
Shit has happened. Shit will happen again.
You do the best you can to make sense of your world through stories.
Sometimes your stories cause you pain.
Sometimes you can’t “shake it off.”
Sometimes your world isn’t as black and white as the zebra’s stripes.
I’ve found that doing “Storywork” is a reliable way to disarm the stories I have about the past. I’ve been able to change the way my mind views past stressors and faces future ones. This lets my physiology do what all mammals are great at — recover from stresses big and small.
Doing this work is uncomfortable and the alternative is worse. Do whatever it takes to disarm your painful stories. Gain an unforeseen clarity and energy to lead a life better than any of your stories would have let you believe.