Something

It is so easy to want to retaliate. To reciprocate with like for like. To strike back in order to defend ourselves in the moment. To give tit for tat. It isn’t a good tactic, but it sure feels like one at the time.

This morning over coffee, we had one of those moments. One of us brought something up. The other shared the frustration that “something” surfaced for them. Which then led the first person to bring up a different “something” that had caused them frustration in the past. Most recently the day before, although they hadn’t mentioned it at the time. Which meant that because it wasn’t expressed as a separate “something” then, it became tangled up with the other “something” now. All of a sudden the “somethings” and the frustrations around them were coiled up together, making it more difficult to actually get the to “somethings” that were asking to be addressed.

Thinking back to this morning it occurs to me that like every messy interaction that comes with every close relationship, there is wisdom to be found in the midst of the tangle. For instance, if I feel something, say something. Maybe not right at that moment, as sometimes a deep breath, a walk down the road, or a good night of sleep can clarify, simplify, and soften the message so that it can be expressed with respect and received with grace. It is such good, and yes, hard, practice to "say what isn’t being said”, because that’s usually where the truth hides out.

As the day and our conversation continued, we got back on track to address our respective “somethings”. And that’s nothing if not something to feel good about, especially considering that neither of us got rattled.

Comings and Goings

Almost before my feet hit the floor I could feel the lump forming in my throat. Standing in the kitchen a few minutes later, the tears started to flow. Sad. Lonely. Discouraged. Those were the companions that greeted me yesterday morning. Feeling the urge to grab ahold of them, I took a slow, deep breath instead. Rather than attach myself to them, I quietly named them out loud. This created a tiny space between me and them. Instead of ramping them up a notch with an old story about what they might have to say about me and my life, I poured a cup of fresh French Press Coffee and took a sip. Tom showed up, poured some coffee, and sat next to me.

Climbing into the red pickup a few minutes later, we headed out to meet a friend at the bottom of the logging road we hike a couple of times each week. I invited my feelings to come along if they wanted, which apparently they did. Twenty minutes later we all headed up the 1.7 mile stretch of hallowed ground found on that ordinary dirt logging road. Three humans and two dogs, my emotions bringing up the rear.

Somewhere along the way my emotional companions must have taken another trail, because when we climbed back into the truck an hour later, they were nowhere to be found.

There was nothing to fix or mend or do with those feelings. They weren’t there to derail my day unless I let them. They simply needed to keep me company for a spell. The tears helped. The deep breaths helped. Naming them helped. Tom simply being there helped. A hike with a friend helped. And coffee helped (duh).

By inviting them along, they were free to take their leave.

Changing Lanes

It might be an overstatement to say that feelings drive my car, but not much of one.

If life were a three lane highway, it is safe to say that I live most of mine in the feeling lane. Yes, I can switch lanes and drive in the thinking or doing lanes, but my default is always feelings first, everything else later. This can make for a tumultuous ride, and at no time has this been more evident than this turbulent year.

When my emotions are of what are typically considered the positive ones, my energy is good. I’m motivated to get things done, can find causes for hope even when things look bleak, and am pretty damn good company to those around me. When overtaken by the darker ones, not so much.

There are three lanes for a reason, and I need to make use of all of them. To lean into thinking and step into doing.

We all have our preferred lane, and can easily fall into our typical patterns of thinking, feeling, or doing. When we find ourselves on auto-pilot, maybe it’s time to change lanes.

Old Friends, Part 2

Two days ago I posted a piece here called Old Friends, about emotions that we’ve known for so long that they have become, well, like old friends. We know them, are comfortable with them, and at times, we need to spend time with them. However, because we are so familiar with them, it is easy to allow them unfettered access to our inner living rooms, and they overstay their welcome.

I have more than one old friend when it comes to emotions, but the one I chose to write about was Melancholy because she has been with me for as long as I can remember. As I was writing about her the other day I decided to call her Mel. It was as if that had been her name all along, I just never thought to call her that before.

As it turns out, giving this emotion a name gives me a new handle on what to do when she shows up. I can greet her by name, as in, Well, hello there Mel. I wasn’t expecting you today, but now that you’re here, what am I going to do with you?

Somehow treating her as an actual visitor gives me some agency over how I will deal with her. Do I invite her in for a good visit? After all, she may have important things to share about what is going on for me at the time. On the other hand, if she simply wants to drop in to rehash the past, again, maybe better to send her on her way.

We had family staying with us the day that blog posted, and after reading it together it started a conversation that is still going on and is expanding to more friends and family. We are having fun (mostly) helping each other figure out exactly who these old friends are, what to name them, why they have been with us for so long, and what to do with them when they show up.

Somehow giving them a name is helping us to learn that just because they are old friends doesn’t mean they get to move in.

Photo by Miriam Espacio from Pexels

Living With It

There are parts of myself that I wish I could resolve, put to rest, or leave behind. One of those is the feeling of anger that flashes, usually inwardly, but occasionally outwardly. It’s been with me for as long as I can remember, and yet I would love to think that I could unravel this thread that runs through my life, and leave it behind me for good and all. But the more likely truth is that I can’t, and I won’t, so rather than angst about it, I am learning to accept that it, like all the other parts of me, are probably going to stick around until I leave the planet.

It is an important emotion, and I probably couldn’t survive without it. Anger lets me know when something is out of whack, out of balance, or out of order, and conveys that there is something I need to say, do, or consider. However, sometimes it’s just a flash that gets triggered without a call to some sort of action on my part other than to sit with it until it dissipates. I’ve had therapy about it, processed it, prayed, written and talked about it, figured out where it comes from, who it comes from, and yet for better or for worse, it seems to be here to stay, and will be until I die.

I’ve decided that I can live with that.