Riding the Wave

I was all set to finalize a post I’ve been working on about the extreme irony about the treatment decision I’ve made (lumpectomy and radiation – be careful about what you resist because it does persist!). But, I’ve decided to delay that post in favor of a new topic that seems to be bursting out of me. Sometimes the material writes me, I swear.

Anyway, the topic that wants my attention now is what it’s like to ride waves of emotion without drowning in them. Do you know what I mean by drowning in emotion? Like how feelings are sometimes so strong that you think you’ll never feel any other way? Well, yesterday was just one of those days. I was on an emotional roller coaster all day long. Normally, the darkness of “uncomfortable” emotions would zap me of all my energy, and I would end up feeling ashamed on top of everything, thinking I should have handled things differently. This time, however, I was able to pay attention and observe my experience as though I was watching a movie, and I learned a lot. Allow me to explain…

Most of the time since my diagnosis, I’ve been feeling pretty centered. I’ve actually surprised myself at how much better I feel than I would have expected. I am acutely aware of how much all the inner work I’ve done has helped me and how much I’ve grown. A few years ago, I think this diagnosis would have caused me to turn into a giant sphere of panic. But now, instead of letting my mind go crazy with unhelpful thoughts about impending doom, I’m able to recognize a big fat story in my mind (say, for instance, about the horrors of radiation), and and turn it into something much more grounded and, for that matter, true. I have had moments of freak out, for sure, but overall I’ve remained pretty darned calm.

Until yesterday.

I was trying to get the girls ready for school. After what seemed like a year of rainy days, Clara looked at the dreary weather and asked, in her most plaintive voice, for a snuggly “stay home day.” There’s nothing like a little mommy guilt to get the morning started (I should stay home with them! I’m selfish to take them to daycare on a day like this!). So I indulged some extra play time before taking them to daycare. After a typical round of arguing over toys, yelling mixed with a dose of whining, and some good old fashioned stalling, my patience had finally worn thin, and I got mad. I shoved Lauren’s coat forcefully into her backpack and accidentally hit my finger (with what, I have no idea). I hit it really hard. And it hurt. A lot.

Interesting how physical pain can open the door to smoldering emotional pain that has been trapped beneath the surface, just waiting to be released. The proverbial floodgates had opened, and I started crying. And crying. And crying.

The girls got quiet and said, “mommy, I’m sorry.” That brought on another wave of guilt, as I tried my best to reassure them that it was not their fault. It was just that mommy was scared and sad and uncertain and generally emotional. (They know I’m going to the hospital next week, but they don’t know all the gory details.)

When I dropped them off and got back into the car, I experienced another wave of tears. And when I got home, another. This time, I was finally alone in a place where I could just let myself emote freely. I sat on the couch with a blanket and cried for the better part of an hour. I felt wave after wave of extreme sadness.

My first inclination was to analyze my feelings by putting words to them. Perhaps you’ve done this too: “Why am I feeling this way? What is wrong with me? What is going on here?” We tend to think a feeling isn’t valid until we find a reason for it. I was falling into the same trap. But that’s what it is, a trap. Because you can’t THINK your feelings. You need to FEEL them.

I noticed myself starting to analyze what was going on and realized that finding just the right reason for my sadness wasn’t actually going to help me feel the sadness. And the only way for it to pass completely (and not get stuck) is to feel it. So I made a conscious effort to do just that, without changing a thing. I observed what was going on in my body (sunken chest, ache in my heart, shallow breathing, tears welling up, tension around my eyes). I watched my thoughts as they passed on by. I allowed the sadness to get as big as the room so I could study how it affected me.

What a gift I gave myself: I didn’t stuff my feelings, diminish them, minimize them, rationalize them or avoid them. And I didn’t get overtaken by them. I just felt them. I told myself, this is what sadness feels like. I can do sadness. Oh, and there’s the fear and uncertainty. I can do those too.

Wow, what a difference from how I’ve dealt with my emotions in the past. This time I felt cleansed instead of miserable. Relieved instead of depressed. So I started thinking about how I can remember to do this all the time, and I came up with a little tool that really helped me. I hope it helps you too:


NOW ON WAVE

Notice – At any point along the wave of emotion, you will become aware that something is up. It may be at the beginning of the wave or you may already be halfway through a pint of ice cream before you notice anything. No matter, just start paying attention.
Open – Open the door to the feeling. Breathe.
Welcome – Welcome the feeling, even if it’s uncomfortable. Remember, it’s just a feeling. It will pass, as would any wave.

Observe – Observe how your thoughts want to distract you. They invite you to get wrapped up in their drama (“I have no right to feel this way. I don’t have time for this right now. I can’t cry in front of other people. I’m going to eat a bag of potato chips. Etc. Etc.”). Don’t fall for it. Put them aside for now—you can always come back to them. Start paying attention to what you’re feeling instead. Observe what happens in your body. Get curious.
Name – Start naming your experience. This is where you can use your analytical skills, but do so sparingly. First name the feeling (start with mad, sad, glad or scared). Then identify short descriptions of what you are feeling in your body (using feeling words, like hot, cold, tingly, tight, flat, etc.). For example, “I feel angry. My body temperature is rising. I feel tightness and heat in my neck and shoulders. My belly is clenched.”

Watch – Keep watching. When you are in the position of “watcher,” or observer, you can’t also be an actor in the drama.
Allow – Give yourself freedom to feel whatever is there. Give it space.
Veer – Direct your attention toward the worst part of the feeling, instead of away from it. Acknowledge the feeling as though it were a child wanting your attention. Hello, I see you.
Expand – Let the feeling get huge. Allow it to fill the whole room so you can study what it feels like. Keep watching it as it travels and changes. Watch as it finally dissipates and subsides. Then you’re work is done.

Do this exercise as often as needed. The more you do it, the better you will get at it.

Photo by hakahonu