feelings – Emily Downward

I’m not Fine (And You Might Not Be Either)

September 25, 2013emilydownward

“Hi! How are you?”

“I’m fine. And you?”

“Fine. Nice seeing you!”

How many times do we have this type of conversation with people in our lives? It is appallingly shallow and so common and pervasive that it seems normal. But does that make it right? I recently learned this quote from Thomas Payne: “A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong gives it a superficial appearance of being right.”

As I’m going through a major transformation in my life – it makes every earlier transition period in my life seem inconsequential – I am finding I have no energy for the superficial. I have become much more protective of what I spend my time and energy on, as it is critical for me at this time. I hope I can keep this clarity and conviction to maintain healthy boundaries and doing what is right for me (not at the expense or detriment of anyone else), as it feels like I am honoring my soul or my essential self more than ever before.

I’m reading the book Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser, “how difficult times can help us grow.” In the first section, she talks about her years of study and experience in personal growth, both individually and as co-founder of the Omega Institute. She refers to the Sufi poet Rumi’s idea of the Open Secret – that each of us hides from others that we are human, that we stumble and fall, that we are afraid and grieve what we’ve lost, dreams and people. When we hide it all from others, they go away and think, “How does she do it all? How come she has it all together? What’s wrong with me?” The irony is that we are all hiding the same secret, making it not such a secret after all. And when you can open the door on your secret, you make it safe for another to open, too.

As my heart is broken open and seemingly bleeding all over the place, I can’t hold it in, so I’m not trying. When I encounter a dear friend or sister or even my caring dental hygienist yesterday who asks, “How are you?” I may begin to tear up or cry. Because truly, that’s often how I am right now: sad, broken-hearted. Most people have been loving and supportive and offer what words or gestures they can of consoling and hope. But others are so uncomfortable. I am not attached to their reaction, which is new for me, but perhaps it’s because I have enough to take care of myself right now. I find it fascinating that MY willingness to share my emotions and feelings makes THEM uncomfortable.

How much life do we waste not truly connecting with others?

Granted, huge caveat here, you need to be careful whom you choose to be vulnerable with. I have learned through trial and error that some people cannot be trusted and may hurt you. I’m choosing to see that as a learning for me, to be more discerning in the future, but not to shut down. Because shutting your heart off, to protect yourself from the pain, also shuts you off from true connection and deep love. And that’s not a bargain I’m willing to make.

And the gifts from being open, from admitting your humanness, are amazing. To be truly seen and acknowledged, just as I am, gives more freedom and security than I’ve ever felt. Freedom to just be, just as I am, and security knowing that even in my broken humanness, I am accepted and loved. I am not alone. And that gives me strength to keep going.

The Messy Side of Becoming

June 12, 2013emilydownward

[My lovely teacher Martha Beck developed the Cycle of Change model that describes the process we go through with any major change. It begins with Square One: Death & Rebirth. I’ve been experiencing a lot of major change this year and getting intimately familiar with Square One. I thought I’d share my experience in hopes it sheds a little light for someone else.]

I think what’s so hard about Square 1 is the Death part. I have some friends who beautifully model a graceful embracing of death and dying. I value that quality and thought I was making strides towards that, but there’s this petulant part of me that is more like child that doesn’t want to go to sleep and miss something. I cling to who I once was, or what I thought I was, or, more aptly, my old way of thinking. The kicker is, even if I didn’t really completely like everything about who I once was, I still cling to it all just because of its familiarity, rather than seeing this as an opportunity to jettison those parts that weren’t working and create something new that fits better.

Logically, I know that death is a part of life, and that it’s the natural order and cycle of things. But emotionally, I struggle with the grief, fear, sadness, and anger. I fear the feelings will be permanent, so I resist them (thereby prolonging them, ironically). I try to mask my feelings, pretending everything’s fine, which takes so much more energy and creates dissonance inside me as my heart yearns to speak the truth. I dip my toe into the feelings and feel nearly overwhelmed by the undertow, so I quickly jump back on to the shore of resistance. There I am, clinging to the sand as the waves are sweeping it out of my clenched fists anyway. It’s painful to hold on, but I’m more afraid of letting go. But at some point, the pain gets to be too much, and I feel like quitting, giving up. “What’s the point of it all?” I feel like screaming.

Still petulant, I say to the Universe, “Fine! I give up!” and I let go. I let go of everything. I let go of my ideas and my dreams of who I thought I was and what I wanted so badly, and I let go of the pain of trying to be okay. I fall into the depths of my emotion. Falling, falling, I relax and let it carry me down. But then, I’m not down. There’s peace. Glorious peace that feels like a balm of contentment. Having finally let go, I can see new possibilities. I have so many more options than just the one I was clinging to. And I don’t have to let go of my dreams, it’s just the plans I had to get there that have changed.

I can see light again, the calm after the storm. And it feels so sweet. Still scary, as I navigate new territory that I haven’t been through before. I feel as vulnerable as a crab that’s just outgrown its shell, having split the old shelter and crawled my way out, I find that my new self is tender and exposed. But also hopeful. And I know the contrast between the storm and the peaceful aftermath are what make it so sweet, even though I wish I could bypass the storm altogether. (Maybe next time? Nah, probably not.)

“I’ll Be Happy When…”

February 20, 2013emilydownward

I have spent so much time looking ahead, looking forward to my next achievement. “I’ll be happy when I have ________” is what runs through my head. There are two problems with this way of thinking. One, I’m not in the present moment, grateful for and happy with what I have now (and all we have is Now). And two, when I get my fill-in-the-blank, I often find I’m not as happy as I thought I’d be.

At least I’m on to myself. I know I tend to do this future focusing. When I catch myself, I bring myself back to the present by breathing and focusing on my body. Then I find as many things as possible in my current reality that I’m grateful for. Sometimes, when you’re in a really sucky place, this could be a simple thing like the fact you’re still breathing or that the sun is shining. Anything that shifts you into a state of gratitude works!

The only reason we want things (or to achieve things) is because we want how we think it will make us feel. Ask yourself, “What will I feel when I get __________?”

As I work on growing my business, I’m in a pattern of trying and failing, trying and failing, trying and nearly succeeding, etc. There have been some successes (more things to be grateful for!), and I’m learning TONS along the way. I am still dedicated to my vision. I know in my heart I’m in the right job to best use my talents. Still, the failures and near misses are currently more prevalent than the successes. When I get discouraged, I remember the value in going back to the basics: What do I want, and what will I feel when I get that?

When I’ve identified what I want, I can go about breaking that goal into smaller steps and then taking those steps to get closer to the achievement. Equally important for me is the feeling state. When I know what feeling I’m looking to achieve, I can find ways to achieve that now, while I’m still taking steps towards my goal.

For example, one of the things I want to include in my coaching is to work with companies to help teams have more passion and joy in what they do, creating teams that work well together, and creating more success and efficiency for both the individual and the company. I have a clear vision of what it looks like, what type of people would hire me, and what kind of coaching tools I would use to help them learn more about themselves and connect with their passion and joy. When I ask what I will feel when I’m doing this, the answers include joy, fun, pride in my work, and a sense of fulfillment in helping others. How can I feel these things now? I get all of this out of coaching people, but I also can tap into those feeling states by reading the testimonials my clients have written about me or volunteering. I try to regularly tap into joy and fun, whether it’s sharing laughter with a friend (like the kind of laughter my youngest niece had when she recently told her sister, “You laughed a toot right out of me!”) or watching a cute video online.

Goals are important, and I believe in having a strong vision for where you want to go. But equally important is enjoying your Now. Find ways to be thankful for where you are and what you have in the present moment, and find ways to feel what you want to feel then now, because there’s no time like the present to start feeling better.