The F Word Series – Feelings

Feelings. We all have them. But we don’t necessarily always want them. Some feelings are somewhat taboo to experience, let alone talk about. We’ve become kind of feelings phobic as a society.They don’t usually make for happy dinner party conversation or chats around  the water cooler at work.  Or should I say unpleasant feelings? There too many books and seminars about the power of positivity and how to be happy in 5 simple steps. A lot of us don’t know how to process our feelings because we were never taught that it was a good thing to do. Particularly those somewhat unpleasant feelings.

There is no such thing as “negative” feelings.

Feelings are simply our heart’s way of communicating that something has happened. Often our attitude towards our feelings can be more damaging than the actual feelings themselves. And having bad feelings doesn’t make you a bad person. Acting on these feelings in an unhealthy way is wrong, not the feelings themselves. You are allowed to feel angry. That is not wrong. But to go up to some one and punch them in the face. That is wrong.

Therapist Tina Gilbertson in her book, Constructive Wallowing, speaks of the natural life cycle of a feeling. Each of our feelings is supposed to take root, grow, bloom, and then wither, eventually disappearing altogether – until the next one comes along.

She talks about how a feeling comes, you feel it and then it leaves. If you don’t allow yourself to experience the feeling, you are halting the natural process. Instead of moving on, the feeling stays. You end up stockpiling these feelings. Every time a new similar feeling arrives it triggers the pile of feelings that you held onto, thus the reason for many of our meltdowns, shutdowns and explosions.

I know it can be difficult to grasp that feelings in themselves are not negative. Especially for those of us who have wrestled with emotion disorders where unpleasant feelings can feel overwhelming, like drowning. How could I tell someone who is drowning to keep treading water? Some emotions are the result of physiological issues. The catch is that at times the physiological issues are caused by emotions that haven’t been dealt with. I have recently been to the doctor and am going to see a naturopath to check on the physiological issues that could be leading to my anxiety issues and other emotional craziness that I have been struggling with lately. You see, if my posts are intense that’s because I am an intensely emotional person. Writing is my catharsis. There are times to process your feelings alone in your journal. But then there are times to seek out expert assistance. 

I usually try to keep tight control over the display of my emotions. I am afraid of what people may think, or so that is what I have always told myself. I am especially afraid to display anger. The truth is that I am afraid of my anger. I am afraid of the damage I could do. There is power in the words we speak. There is power to heal and power to hurt. I am afraid of exploding. I am afraid to hurt. Although there have been times when I have fantasized about what it would be like to really hurt someone who hurt me. Imagining if I had had the perfect cruel comeback to cut that person down to size. Terrible I know. But I will expose myself to show you that you are really not alone.

We need to know how to let go of our feelings. Letting go is not ignoring. It’s not pretending the feelings aren’t real.

Letting go requires allowing ourselves to experience our feelings in a safe and healthy way.

Some of us have trouble with feeling sad or angry. Some of us are even more afraid to allow ourselves to feel happy or hopeful.

There can be an incredible vulnerability in allowing oneself to experience these positive emotions. Emotions like blissful joy and unfettered hope. What if you surrender to hope and joy and then it all comes crashing down around you? That would hurt. Disappointment hurts. But so does regret. So much of our lives are spent avoiding pain. It never occurs to us that our pain avoidance could lead to pain in other ways.

I don’t have a lot of great advice for you. This journey is one I am on as well. Choosing to embrace our feelings in a healthy way is a difficult skill to master. Skill. That’s the key word. It takes time. It takes practice. Be kind to yourself as you learn. We are all learners here.

 

 

The Hiding Place

I have discovered that there is a problem with writing a blog where the main theme is vulnerability. You can’t really promote vulnerability without being vulnerable, can you?

I have a kind of distrust for people that attempt to do just that. I don’t like it when someone promotes the sharing of brokenness and weakness, yet doesn’t share their own brokenness or weakness. Maybe I am being too unkind. Maybe people like that really do have the best intentions. Maybe. But I don’t like the culture that it creates; a distinct separateness between the “strong” and “weak”, between the “broken” and the “put together”, between the “helper” and the “helped”. It makes for some interesting power dynamics. But I digress…

But what do I write when I don’t want to be vulnerable?

What happens when someone who writes on being seen, wants to hide?

What do you do when you want to connect…but you don’t want to connect?

You are human, so of course you crave connection with other humans. But what happens when your craving for connection conflicts with the fear of the risk associated with seeking connection?

The hiding place feels safer at first. In that place I can hide from bad advice, the invalidation of my emotions, people misunderstanding me, the mislabeling, the false judgements etc.

I have a strong flight response. When it all gets too much, the temptation to run and hide is incredibly strong. I am good at hiding. And it’s so easy to do, especially in our culture of busyness.

People are often too busy; too preoccupied, too tired, to go looking for those who are lost. Usually we wait until people reach out to us. It becomes a game of chicken – who will flinch first? Will someone reach out for help, or will someone reach out to help? We say that we are being empowering to people, but it’s really because we are too preoccupied to reach out to them. We don’t see them. When was the last time you slowed down to look at people, I mean really see them?

This makes it too easy for people to hide in plain sight: in their cozy hiding place. People hide behind the walls of their homes, behind their jobs, behind their spirituality, behind their hobbies, behind their devices, behind their gender, behind their age, behind their jokes, behind their schedules, behind their spouse, behind their children, behind a curated persona, behind their busyness.

But the hiding place is a lonely place.

You and I cannot stay there forever. In the hiding place. At some point we will need to come out. I know that. You know that. We all know that the hiding place should only ever really be a temporary respite. Not a permanent home. We could wait until someone comes looking for us. But, realistically (in our so-called busy culture), how long could that take? And let me give a voice to that silent fear of yours you dare not whisper … what if no one comes? Who will come looking if everyone is hiding? It takes bravery to go looking for someone, just as it takes bravery to come out of hiding. Maybe you and I, intrepid reader, need to be the brave ones?

 

 

Christmas is allowed to be messy

This year Leonard Cohen’s song Hallelujah has been re-released as a happy Christmas song. To be fair it is a lovely version. It is a lovely, polished and pretty version.

Cohen said of his song

“This world is full of conflicts and full of things that cannot be reconciled. But there are moments when we can transcend the dualistic system and reconcile and embrace the whole mess, and that’s what I mean by ‘Hallelujah.’ That regardless of what the impossibility of the situation is, there is a moment when you open your mouth and you throw open your arms and you embrace the thing and you just say, ‘Hallelujah! Blessed is the name.’…
“The only moment that you can live here comfortably in these absolutely irreconcilable conflicts is in this moment when you embrace it all and you say, ‘Look, I don’t understand a #@$%ing thing at all – Hallelujah!’ That’s the only moment that we live here fully as human beings.”

Ironically Hallelujah is a song about acknowledging the messiness of life. It’s about being able to embrace the mystery and confusion of life. David would start sometimes start a Psalm by acknowledging all that seemed to be going wrong in his life. He would process through his pain with God. (Disclaimer: I talk about pain a lot. That’s probably because pain, or the fear of experiencing pain, is the thing that keeps us from showing up and being seen more then anything else. Pain and shame. Few want to talk about it at Christmas time. Even though many people quietly experience it at this time of year.) Everything seemed to be going against him and nothing seemed to be working out. Yet he often finished them in a similar fashion to Cohen’s description. I don’t understand the why, but Praise God anyway.

When I read about the birth of Jesus, there doesn’t appear to be much that is pretty or polished about it. A young girl, with rumors swirling around her, gave birth to her first child, far from home, while surrounded by farm animals. Not the clean tidy nativity scene we are familiar with, but a messy, smelly, unfamiliar and crowded space.

So many Christmas songs tell a very different narrative. According to some songs baby Jesus didn’t cry. See Jesus was so holy, that even as a newborn infant he had no needs. This is a denial of his humanity. It is also a denial of our own as we are called to walk in his footsteps.

“We take on a properly antiseptic and churchy view of birth, arranged as high art to convey the seriousness and sacredness of the incarnation. It is as though the truth of birth is too secular for Immanuel. Birth doesn’t look like our concept of “holy” in its real state. So we think the first days of the God-with-us require the dignity afforded by our careful editing.” Sarah Bessey

Jesus’ birth was messy. His life was messy. And his death was most certainly messy.

There is nothing about the first Christmas that promotes performance or perfectionism, and yet, these things run rife at this time of year. People get into debt just to have the “perfect” Christmas. The house needs to be decorated just “right”. With the “right” presents, the “right”food and family behaving the “right” way. So much pressure!

Could it be possible to decorate and exchange gifts and eat food without all the pressure of trying to make the holiday look like a pinterest board?

Christmas can be messy partly because Christmas involves family, and family can be…well…messy.

God could have chosen his birth to look any way He wanted. He chose for it to be messy and imperfect. There is freedom in that. God is okay with your mess. Yes we aspire to grow and develop and heal, but God is also quite comfortable hanging out with you being the hot mess that you are.

We are allowed to be messy and imperfect…even at Christmas time.

Christmas light image taken from Flickr