Today I Choose to be Stable – How to be Stable

How to Be Stable: When You’re Everyone’s Human Binky and the Hospital Is Flooding

The text came at 6:47 AM: “FML.”

My CEO Al (who’s also my friend and, thanks to some matchmaking on my part, technically my step-cousin-in-law) hadn’t even started his day and was already in crisis mode. I call him my personal Eeyore-meets-Chicken Little hybrid. As I reached for my phone to talk him off whatever ledge he’d found this morning, I realized something profound: I’ve become a human binky.

Not just for Al, but for pretty much everyone in my orbit. My son Jesse calls me stomp-walking down the street, working himself into a tizzy about his “dragon” stepdaughters. My companies need steadying through competitive bid crises. Even my husband Curtis needs stability through medical nightmares.

But here’s the thing about being everyone else’s stability – what happens when your own foundation cracks?

When Stable Became a Sick Joke

Last year, Curtis went in for what was supposed to be a simple procedure. Three days in the hospital, max. I had it all planned, scheduled, stabilized.

Instead, that three-day procedure turned into a week, then a second procedure, then a colostomy. Then the hospital flooded and went on lockdown. I couldn’t reach him. Couldn’t get information. My normally stable, planned, certain world tilted completely sideways.

When he went septic and ended up in the ICU in critical condition for two weeks, the instability and uncertainty were nearly paralyzing. The man who is my rock – my veritable unshakeable foundation – was fighting for his life while I stood helplessly in a flooded hospital, cut off from him.

That’s when I learned that learning how to be stable at 60 means something entirely different than it did at 40.

The Evolution from Certainty Junkie to Uncertainty Embracer

If you’re familiar with Tony Robbins’ six human needs, you’ll understand when I say that historically, certainty topped my list. Given my tumultuous childhood (alcoholic mother, mental health issues, being told I was “lucky to be adopted because your real mother didn’t want you”), uncertainty didn’t even register. Bore me, please. Give me predictable. Give me stable. Give me certain.

But life has a way of laughing at our need for certainty. Bankruptcy taught me that financial stability is an illusion. Finding my birth daughter Bari at 52 shattered my certainty about family. Curtis’s health crisis demolished any remaining belief that I could plan my way to stability.

Now at 60, my needs have shifted: Love and connection, growth, contribution, certainty, uncertainty, and significance – in that order. I’ve actually learned to embrace uncertainty, trying new things, heading into situations with no preconceived expectations.

The Worst-Case Scenario Strategy

This will sound weird, but when faced with instability, I take the situation out to its worst possible outcome. I figure out how I could deal with that worst case. Once I know I can handle it, I can embrace the uncertainty better.

Example: We just found out that continuous glucose monitors may go on competitive bid next year. That impacts one of our companies hugely. So I quickly took it to the worst: It does go on competitive bid. I decided if it does, we have two choices – go big or go home. Either put in a bid and pray, or try to sell.

When unexpected bills come (like that $15,000 Keys vacation in the drug dealer’s mansion, or $15,000 in medical expenses), I have a saying that’s probably not the best financial advice but works for my sanity: “It’s just money. I’ll make more.”

Finding Breathing Room in Chaos

With 10-12 hour workdays managing 18 companies, I’ve discovered there are some activities that are like breathing to me. When facing instability, I’ll switch to one of those tasks – it’s almost like meditating.

After researching what the competitive bid situation meant (information helps stabilize me), I moved to doing monthly journal entries. They require just enough brain power to keep my mind active but are comfortable enough to stabilize me. It’s my version of an adult coloring book, except with spreadsheets and financial data.

The Comedy of Over-Stabilizing

As a lifelong peacekeeper (thanks, Mom), I’m always trying to stabilize situations – smooth over issues, keep everything on an even keel. I’m quite the planner. Sometimes, hilariously so.

Our most recent vacation was a masterpiece of stabilization planning. I had orchestrated with military precision: Get Tyler, Curtis, and me to Acadia with the RV. Ensure Tyler had three days to visit his friend in Maryland. Coordinate Jesse, Amy, Bailey, and Brea taking the auto train to DC and meeting us in Maryland. Navigate through Newburgh, Portland, Acadia, Boston, Newburgh again, Hershey, Luray, North Carolina, Savannah, then home.

I had everything perfectly stabilized. Or so I thought.

What I hadn’t considered was that Jesse and Amy had their own car and made countless “delightful side quests” en route. None of the timing worked out. I had over-stabilized the vacation into complete chaos. Anyone witnessing this “stable” vacation would have thought we needed a vacation from the vacation.

Being Everyone’s Rock While Standing on Shifting Sand

I am frequently the stability for others, especially at work and with my family. I patiently listen to Jesse ask me how the heck I raised him and how he’s going to deal with his two stepdaughters.

Just last week, Jesse called one evening, blustering vociferously. Apparently, Brea was upset because he and Amy weren’t buying her a car like her friends’ parents. Jesse and Amy had set grade expectations for car help, which Brea hadn’t met. Further, Brea had explained she wants to be wealthy but doesn’t want to work full time.

Brea’s sense of entitlement and her angsty “curflufflment” (Jesse’s word, not mine) was destroying their household peace. Jesse wanted to blow up, but Amy doesn’t operate that way, so Jesse had to tamp it down because he’s the stepdad.

I could hear him stomp-walking down the street, regaling me with all the absurdities falling from Brea’s lips, working himself into a tizzy. When he asked how I’d raised him without losing my mind, I replied: “A lot of prayer and a lot of wine!”

The Village That Keeps Me Stable

While I’m being everyone’s human binky, I have my own sources of stability. Curtis is my unshakeable rock. During his hospital stay, when he couldn’t be my stability, his parents Marjorie and Curt (a prince of a man) had my back. They came to the hospital daily so I could eat and take a break.

My work colleague Jesse (different Jesse – I know, it’s confusing) is a huge source of stability. When Al texts “FML” before dawn, Jesse often gets the companion text: “Al’s melting down again.”

The Mantras That Matter

Beyond “It’s just money, I’ll make more,” I have other phrases for unstable times:

• “Would you rather be right or would you rather be happy?”
• “So Hum” (Sanskrit for “I am”)
• “Be still and know that I am God”
• “The right words at the right time are like silver apples in a golden basket”

I’ve also learned that sometimes when people voice their instability, they’re not looking for solutions. Sometimes they just want to vent. (Looking at you, Jesse and Al.)

The Secret to Stability After Everything

After adoption trauma, addiction in the family, bankruptcy, finding my birth daughter, and major health scares, what’s my secret to staying stable?

Being prepared for the worst while expecting the best.

It sounds pessimistic, but it’s actually freeing. When you know you can handle the worst-case scenario, everything else becomes manageable. When you’ve already lost everything and rebuilt, you know you can do it again. When you’ve sat in a flooded ICU watching your rock fight for his life, you know you can find stability even in chaos.

Your Guide to Being Stable When Life Isn’t

1. Embrace the Worst-Case Scenario Planning Take your fear to its logical conclusion. Figure out how you’d handle it. Then breathe, knowing you can cope with whatever actually happens.

2. Find Your “Breathing” Activities Identify tasks that calm your nervous system. For me, it’s journal entries. For you, it might be gardening, baking, or organizing your sock drawer.

3. Build Your Binky Network You can’t be everyone’s stability without your own support system. Find your Marjorie and Curt. Identify your work Jesse. Know who to text when life sends you “FML” moments.

4. Develop Your Mantra Arsenal Find phrases that ground you. Mix spiritual (“Be still and know”) with practical (“It’s just money”) with philosophical (“Would you rather be right or happy?”).

5. Accept That Over-Stabilizing Creates Chaos Sometimes our attempts to control everything create more instability. Ask me about my “perfectly planned” vacation that turned into a comedy of side quests.

6. Recognize Venting Versus Solving Not everyone texting you in crisis wants solutions. Sometimes they just need to stomp-walk down a street while you listen.

The Beautiful Truth About Being Stable at 60

Here’s what I’ve learned: True stability isn’t about having everything under control. It’s about finding your center when the hospital floods, when your CEO texts “FML” at dawn, when your son’s stepdaughter’s curflufflment threatens household peace, and when your perfectly planned vacation explodes into delightful chaos.

It’s about being prepared for the worst, expecting the best, and knowing that whatever happens, you’ve survived worse and can handle this too.

It’s about being a human binky for others while having your own binkies on speed dial.

It’s about embracing uncertainty while doing monthly journal entries to stay sane.

Most importantly, it’s about knowing that stability at 60 doesn’t look like stability at 40. It’s messier, funnier, deeper, and somehow more solid – even when everything else is shifting sand.

So the next time life throws you a curveball – whether it’s a flooded hospital, a competitive bid crisis, or a teenager who wants wealth without work – remember: You can handle the worst case. You will make more money. And sometimes, the answer really is just prayer and wine.

Join our community of women who’ve learned that being stable doesn’t mean being rigid. Share your best “I tried to control everything and created chaos” story below. Bonus points if it involves overly detailed vacation planning or teenage curflufflment.

P.S. To all the Als out there texting “FML” before 7 AM – your human binkies love you anyway. But maybe wait until after coffee?