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Monday, July 28, 2014

Loving Myself (and giving myself the freedom to feel)

A few days ago, someone close to me got upset - not at me, but at a larger problem in life - and I couldn't do anything about it, not even help her feel better. She didn't want to talk about it, and hugs didn't really help either. I tried to talk about other things to distract her but that didn't work either. Of course, it's not my job to make anyone else feel better, but still, for the rest of the evening, I couldn't shake a feeling of sadness and inadequacy brought on by her suffering and my own powerlessness to do anything about it.

I thought I knew how to deal with emotional pain. Over the past six months or so I've been taking my lessons on this from readings of Buddhist writers Pema Chodron and Thich Nhat Hanh. What I picked up there was the idea of not suppressing or pushing away painful feelings - or trying to cover them up with distractions - but allowing them to emerge, feeling them for a time and letting them dissipate on their own. I thought I knew how to do it. After all, I healed myself from heartbreak this way - what's a little sadness? But despite my attempts to practice, the episode with my friend was actually the tail end of a terribly anxious week, where uncomfortable feelings of loneliness and longing, fear and worry assailed me again and again in spite of all my attempts to process them - to drive them away, quite frankly.

I realized what I was doing over the weekend. I had spent most of the last two weeks castigating myself for longing so bad for my significant other that it verged on dependence, and I don't doubt it was the suppression of this feeling that fueled my anxiety about the poly nature of our relationship. That particular day, I had been experiencing ever worsening bouts of anxiety about the whole thing. I tried to follow the teachings of the masters I was reading, to acknowledge my feelings and then let them go - but without realizing it I had not been truly embracing my feelings, but rather pushing them away with my judgmental mindset even as I tried to let them run their course. I was so caught up in seeking relief, in trying to rid myself of feelings I thought wrong, that I wasn't allowing my difficult feelings the space to truly emerge. So I resolved to be less judgy toward myself, to give myself permission to feel, and not immediately label my feelings as wrong -  needy, codependent, unhealthy; or jealous and unbefitting a poly relationship.

I put it into practice a few days later. I saw a text from my significant other come in, and resisted the usual urge to quash my excitement as "overly dependent." Isn't it natural to be happy when you receive a message from a loved one? Why not let myself feel excited? Especially considering my loved one is far away and very much missed. It was amazing how much letting go of my critical mindset lightened my day. I no longer spent the day locked in an anxious battle between wanting to hear from my beloved and hating myself for it, between my feelings and my fear of their power. If I got a text from my beloved, I could be happy. If a while went by without one, it was ok to feel a little pang of loneliness and longing. Suddenly, I could relax.

So when, as I was shelving books at the library, the sadness over my perceived inadequacy returned, I quickly stopped myself from trying to get rid of it in the guise of "thinking it through" or "feeling it and letting it go." Instead I stopped thinking and just let myself feel the sadness. And suddenly I felt calm. I felt sad, yes. But also at peace. There was a beauty to just being quietly sad. It made me slow down; I felt as if I were drifting, the world only half real, the books slowly shelving themselves out of habit. If anyone had tried to talk to me, I don't doubt I would have had trouble responding. But fortunately no one asked me anything; I was able to drift through my fog of sadness, until it slowly dissolved.

I'm sure there's a point where examining one's own feelings is a useful and necessary thing. Especially since I do think I have issues with personal boundaries and neediness and depending on others for my happiness. But beating myself up about it constantly is definitely not a way to lead a happy life, and probably does little to make me better in any of those areas. Being gentle with myself, accepting and embracing what I feel and how I am, is a much better first step in becoming a stronger, more contented person.

One of my favorite Buddhist writers, Thich Nhat Hanh, recommends treating even unpleasant feelings quite tenderly. For example, from his book Fear: "With the energy of mindfulness and concentration, we just recognize and embrace the painful feeling. 'Hello, my fear. Hello, my anger. Hello, my sadness. I know you are there. I'm going to take good care of you' " (pg. 137). In that passage, he goes on to talk about the energy of mindfulness embracing and permeating a painful feeling the way the sunlight permeates a lotus flower in the early morning and causes it to open. I certainly had not been treating my feelings this tenderly with my judgmental attitude, so it's no wonder my attempts to practice didn't help dissipate my sadness and anxiety.

Even my desire for painful feelings to disappear is something best left behind. I don't need to worry about the feeling disappearing. Feelings are transient; whether good or bad, they won't last forever. Eventually, sadness and anxiety will subside. Willing it away - even with the subtle coercion of trying too hard to "let go" - can't make it leave before it's ready, and will probably make it worse. Far better is to give the feeling its head, without any expectations of it lessening or going, while also practicing mindfulness, in the form of breathing, or walking, or shelving library books, to keep it from going crazy. It's probably a happy accident that I had this episode at the library where mindfulness meditation is right there at hand - but perhaps it's not a coincidence at all; maybe the meditative conditions are what allowed my sadness to fully emerge in the first place. Either way, I now have a better handle on how to practice with my difficult feelings - not judging or wishing them away, but accepting and loving myself even when my feelings are painful or seem unhealthy, and letting my feelings appear and have their moment without criticism or suppression. Because only in the embrace of loving oneself will the negative feelings truly melt away.