Thinking About Change: Why We Find It So Hard Sometimes (and Three Steps I've Learned to Ease the Stress)

This weekend I am pet-sitting a gorgeous golden retriever called Poppy.

In the days leading up to moving in, I noticed my worry line creeping higher and higher. I was waking in the wee hours and struggling to quieten my mind enough to get back to sleep. There was the planning, the preparation, and the slightly frantic cooking and packing for every imaginable contingency. Even though I'd only be ten minutes from home, I was determined not to forget anything.

Then there was the worry about Poppy herself. How would she feel when I had to leave her to do "human things" without her?

Recently, I've been doing a deep dive into change and why it can feel so stressful. The funny thing was that the moment I arrived and was greeted by an excited golden retriever, that worry disappeared. Nothing had gone wrong. Everything was fine.

And that's when I realised I'd just experienced exactly what I'd been learning about.

Our brains have evolved to be masterful prediction machines. Thousands of years ago, this helped our ancestors anticipate danger and survive. Today, that same system is still running in the background, constantly trying to work out what's coming next.

My excessive worry about pet-sitting wasn't really about pet-sitting at all. It was about uncertainty. My brain couldn't accurately predict how the next few days would unfold, and it responded by trying to prepare for every possible scenario.

At the same time, our brains are designed to conserve energy wherever possible. Familiar routines allow us to operate efficiently without having to think too hard, make endless decisions, or exert significant self-control. When our routines change, our brains have to work harder.

Moving into another house for a few days disrupted my normal rhythm. Suddenly there were different surroundings, different routines, and a host of unknowns. To my brain, that represented extra effort and uncertainty.

The interesting thing is that our modern brains aren't all that different from those of our ancestors. While I wasn't facing a life-threatening situation, my nervous system responded as though there was a threat that needed managing. The brain isn't particularly good at distinguishing between a hungry predator and a perceived threat to certainty, routine, or control. It simply detects something unfamiliar and sounds the alarm.

Reflecting on this experience reminded me that often the challenge isn't the size of the problem itself. It's our response to it.

The difficulty is recognising that in the moment.

When we're caught up in stress or worry, it can be hard to see that we're having a "10 out of 10" reaction to what might actually be a "2 out of 10" problem. Developing that awareness takes practice, and this experience reminded me that I still have plenty of opportunities to strengthen that skill.

What I do appreciate is that these smaller moments give us the chance to practise before bigger challenges arrive.

This experience reminded me of three things:

1. Breathe

A few slow, intentional breaths would have helped calm my nervous system and create space between the situation and my reaction. Clear thinking is much easier when we're not operating from panic.

2. Scale it

Asking myself whether my level of stress was proportional to the size of the problem would have helped bring some perspective. Was this really a crisis, or was it simply an unfamiliar situation?

3. Focus on joy

The moment Poppy greeted me with pure enthusiasm, most of my worries melted away. Her excitement was contagious.

There's a saying:

"Where focus goes, energy flows."

Instead of focusing on all the things that might go wrong, I found myself focusing on a happy dog, a beautiful walk, and time spent outdoors. Once we got moving my mood shifted almost instantly.

Looking back, the change itself was never the problem. My response to the uncertainty was.

And perhaps that's one of the most valuable lessons change can teach us: when we understand what's happening inside our brains, we can respond with a little more perspective, a little more self-compassion, and a lot less unnecessary stress.