U/B 5: Hello, shame. Would you like some tea?
Inviting negative emotions in before they sabotage your life
Here’s your weekly reminder to return to useful and beautiful thoughts.
Hi!
I wonder who’s life you inadvertently touched this week?
I keep thinking about those two ladies in the waiting room.
TLDR1: Last week I shared a snippet of conversation between two women claiming superior judgment over another woman who wasn’t heeding their advice on how to best take care of a sick dog. I wrote:
That kind of talk breeds contempt, entitlement, righteousness, and other five-dollar words.
Which is harsh.
At first, I didn’t feel shame. They were strangers. I used them to make a point. They’ll never know. I’ll never see them again. No big deal.
Except I actually see them almost every day. The daughter brings her mother to daily radiation treatment. The same reason I am there.
It’s weirdly intimate, sitting around in hospital gowns with the same group of women. Sometimes we discuss what type of cancer everyone has. Occasionally conversation turns to God or acceptance or just how out of control you feel as a cancer patient. Doctors, techs, nurses all telling us what to do like lay half naked on a table to get blasted with invisible radiation.
Maybe the mom and her daughter needed something to ease the helplessness. Judging the dog mom was a way to reclaim a little power2.
Anyway, all week I’ve felt ashamed for writing it. But shame is neither useful nor beautiful. I told myself that I shouldn’t feel shame.
So, I brushed it off, determined to move forward and not dwell on the past thing I wished I hadn’t done.
And everything I’ve written since has been garbage.
Allow the feelings
Because you have a kind heart, you might have an urge to tell me, “Don’t feel bad. It’s not a big deal.” But that wouldn’t acknowledge my reality. It could even make me feel worse for being ashamed. (Because your words have magic powers).
Both you and I need to allow these feelings, even though we don’t think they’re useful or beautiful. I can’t avoid them, can’t go around. The way out is through.
Being with negativity is the flip side to returning to positivity
When I ignore my negative emotions, they have a tendency to sabotage my efforts at living intentionally. They lurk like a pack of zombies. Of course I lock the doors!
But they’re clever. So I have to be gracious.
Invite the feeling in. Give myself space to host it. Feel its presence.
Hello, shame.
Would you like to come in? Have some tea? Tell me your story.
Ah, yes. I can see. I wonder how we might move forward?
It’s time to go already? Alright then. See you next time.
Oh, and tell guilt I said hello.
Have you ever heard the idea that you cannot leave a place without first having been there? It’s like how you can’t leave a place without going through it.
I can’t expect to leave behind shame (or fear, anger, etc) if I haven’t fully been there.
So I have to go there.
Later, I can return to where I’d rather be.
Don’t try to hold onto positivity. Return to it.
Don’t reject negativity. Be with it.
Emotions as divine visitors
The ancient Greeks had gods that were the personification of emotions, character traits, etc. I like that separation. It helps keep us in the present moment.
This thing I’m feeling is not an inherent part of me. It’s just an emotion who’s visiting.
I feel afraid. But I am not a fearful person. Fear is not in me. Phobos is just present right now. I can invite him in, offer him tea and a bed, then eventually send him on his way.
Leading yourself takes work
Trying new strategies and tactics to lead yourself is great, but that’s not the only work. Owning the feelings that accompany it — inadequacy, shame, fear, guilt, etc — that’s where transformation happens.
I write about this stuff — share my story — to remind you:
To help yourself, do the introspective work.
The work is hard.
The work is ongoing.
You don’t have to hold on. You can return to it.
Thank you for allowing me to help.
Love,
Kate
p.s. Was this helpful? Too long? Too abstract? Just right? Let me know your thoughts.
p.p.s. Paid subscriptions help me tremendously. You can support this work with less than $2 per week.
Each week’s letter is a reminder to return to useful and beautiful. Don’t hold on. Leave. Go through. Then you may return.
TLDR = Too long didn’t read
Like when I encouraged my to daughter yell DAMN that’s NASTY to her nasty-ass medicine.