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Feelings are always right

Reading Time: 10 minutes

Feelings are are the foundation of human experiences.  No matter how ‘logical’ you think you are, when you make a choice, it’s because something about it feels good or bad.   Neuroscientists know that feelings are a requirement for choice – when you block feelings, you are actually unable to make choices.1)One patient, Eliott, after removing part of his frontal lobe, kept all of his intelligence but was unable to feel emotions in making decisions – and as a result, he was incapable of making decisions. Source: The Decisive Moment: How the Brain Makes Up Its Mind by Jonah Lehrer (2009) But in this rushed world, who actually has time to completely feel emotions?  Most of the time we ignore them until they’re screaming at us, affecting our lives until we wonder why we made that stupid decision or got in an abusive relationship.  But feelings can become good friends – no matter what they are.  It’s vitality important that they do.

And in the aftermath of #metoo, with the public acknowledgement of decades of hurt and resentment laying there for many, it is vitally important we find ways to actually work with the quagmire of built up feelings. This means going beyond venting and online shaming – many groups perhaps have a deep need for their own version of Truth and Reconciliation. This by necessity means working with what’s going on, deep in our brains and bodies, in a way that promotes actual transformation.

Fuck the “Fuck Your Feelings” motto.

Mark Manson wrote “Fuck your feelings”, saying that feelings shouldn’t be what you live your life by, that it’s up to you to control the meaning of them and your actions.  And there’s some truth to that – living an impulsive, unexamined life can be a path to addiction and misery.  Buddha’s Four Noble Truths say that those impulses of craving and aversion are the source of suffering in our lives.

But unlike Mark Manson2)I’m not totally against Mark Manson’s philosophy, so long as it’s used to achieve short term goals. It’s more that fucking your feelings for a long time can get your life fucked, Buddha taught that the path to a life without suffering about completely welcoming what’s there, especially feelings.  Learning to feel completely, without imposing meaning or judgement.  Removing the dams blocking our internal rivers of thoughts and emotions and letting them flow naturally in the lush landscape of our bodies and community.

When this happens, feelings of connection and well being seem to come naturally.  But all too often this doesn’t happen, with tragic results.

When feelings aren’t welcomed

I knew a woman, Claire3)not her real name with many details changed, who threw herself into mountain climbing and found a home with the local community, which was small enough that everyone knew each other.  She then went on a date with a guy in the community, things happened, she said no… and she was raped.  Claire was devastated: full of hurt, distrust and rage at being violated.

Hurt, distrust, and rage are uncomfortable emotions.  But they’re also right.  They are important to feel.  They’re also important to feel with someone – in the presence of someone trusted, who can be attuned, who can feel with you.  That’s what support – and compassion – is.

She, of course was in shock.  Rape victims usually are.  At first, she likely didn’t even know all she was feeling or what she needed and the jumble was visible.  But when she tried to tell others what happened and what she was experiencing, people got uncomfortable – women and men alike.  I don’t think they didn’t believe her.  They just didn’t want to feel those painful feelings – including their own about the effect on the small community.  So her friends just tried to change the subject, to avoid the emotions, which added to the quagmire in her gut, feeling dismissed, invalidated, and alone.  Claire was covertly (but unintentionally) ostracised and the guy continued to be a part of the community.  I think many wanted to support her. They just didn’t have the capacity to feel those intense, painful emotions along with her, and accept the upheaval this would cause amongst them, and so pushed the topic (and her) away.

That’s what happens when we create years of habits of pushing feelings away.  It doesn’t just hurt them.  It hurts our ability to respond appropriately to friends, to give support.4)Of course I’m simplifying the situation  – trauma and rape is a large topic.

When I saw her years later, she was still affected by these events.  Her eyes showed distrust of men, and a good deal of resentment at life.  Resentment is the natural emotion when you have to disown strong emotions.

I can’t help but wonder what her life would have been like had she had at least one person to weather the storm with, who didn’t just believe her intellectually from afar, but welcomed her even more because of what she was going through.  Because that kind of support makes both people alive.

A deep look at feelings

Ok, let’s get down to semantics for clarity.

Feelings, by definition, are the bare physiological experience in a moment.  This is not an emotion, which is a reaction to something, which in turn we label for communication and understanding.  For instance, if we’re suddenly filled with adrenaline, our body tenses for action, the brain orients outward looking for threat, we might use the word “fear” to label the experience.  But what’s important is the bare experience, and allowing our body to do what’s natural – likely to run away.

Conversely, if we perceive something we know we can handle, the brain might re-orientate, puff up the body and call the experience “anger”.  Both of those words are not the experience themselves.

The problem is when we label an emotion and then stop feeling in the moment.  We lose track of the actual sensations, the present-moment aliveness.  Then the label sticks and it’s part of our identity – we say  “I’m frightened”.  Then it’s a problem to solve, because “I” don’t want to be frightened.  We try to do stuff to make ourselves better, which is usually oriented towards stopping the bare sensations.  And we get caught in the trap of suffering Buddha spoke so profoundly about.

There’s not a problem with intense reactions if they are aren’t “problems” in that way. Once I was rollerblading at high speed through a paved forest path and came across a bear and her cubs smack on the path.  Fuck I was scared.  But I managed to stop a few feet away from the cubs and the momma bear didn’t bat an eye.  My experience wasn’t conceptualised – I was terrified, reacted, and then the feeling moved on.  Nothing stuck.  I learned what Thich Naht Hahn called having “no aftertaste” of an event. I didn’t blame the bear for being there, blame forest management, or let it lessen my desire to glide through a forest in the future. It just flowed and became part of my experience.

Why is this important with others?  Because it’s at this level we form connections with others where mutual support is a natural thing that occurs without effort.  The spiritual teacher Adyashanti once pointed out that if you communicate raw experiences, conflict can never happen, because your experience is always your own.  No one can argue with you.  Conflict happens over interpretations and reasons.  Someone may disagree with why you are frightened, especially if it implies fault, but being simply visible about living in fear is more likely to evoke empathy and compassion.  We come together and even form deeper bonds when we simply share experiences, as they are.

So more about what feelings are, and are not:

Feelings are not stories

All too often when we try to communicate to someone what we’re feeling, we tell a story.  That person did this to me and I reacted, and then this happened and man they hurt me.  The events of the story are usually a mix of fact and implied causation and fault5)Non-Violent Communication emphases learning to stick to undebatable facts and feelings to avoid conflict. Some feelings may be conveyed, but are often more in the space in between your words, the non-verbal signals, or the metaphors.  If you deliver the story in a dry, detached way, others have little idea of your bare experience in the present moment. It may even sound like you’re over it already.

A story can be an entry point into feelings. When first speaking about a painful experience, as in #metoo, we may want to hesitantly test the waters. Is my audience going to judge me or shame me based on the facts alone? Is it safe to be vulnerable with you? Once you’ve heard my story, are you open to seeing my feelings and how I’m affected now?

But simply telling your story doesn’t mean you’re necessarily feeling the feelings associated with it.

Feelings are not words

When you say “I feel angry”, you know what you mean.  But feelings are like a painting.  They’re colored by life experiences, your family’s use of the word, and all the techniques of breathing (and not breathing) you’ve learned so far.  When ask 10 people to feel anger, they are going to have 10 different experiences.  Thinking you’ve communicated feeling by a word is like thinking you’ve conveyed the beauty of the Mona Lisa with a 1000 word essay.  It can’t be done.

Some feelings don’t have words – yet

When we’re still processing an intense experience, all too often we don’t even know what we’re feeling.  It’s a raw experience, still unprocessed.  The linear brain is great at making up labels and explanations (which are almost always wrong or incomplete) but not at feeling things out, letting your body speak.  It’s unfortunately that socially there can be so much pressure to find words instead of just being where you are.

Last week, I indulged some addictive tendencies (video games) in retrospect because there was something I didn’t know how to feel.  I tried, but it all felt so uncomfortable and nothing flowed, so I went back to the game as a temporary pleasure – though like any addiction, it made me feel worse in the long run.  My partner was there, so I asked “can we sit together and breathe?”  And we did, with full attention on each other.  And given that attention, support and compassion, more awareness of my body came, I let myself move and show things on my face.  Eventually tears came – and last of all, I could put words to it.  Words often come last.

It is so important to give space and time for those wordless states.  Our body doesn’t want to be interrupted in its processing.  And attention, without trying to find words, is often the best thing.

Which brings me to the next point.

Feeling is a collaborative act

You’ve probably experienced being with a person in a group where you know in your body some uncomfortable emotion (e.g., anger) will not be accepted – so you don’t feel it.  It is pushed out of  your conscious awareness, because we are incredibly social and interdependent creatures.

On the other hand, there are times I’ve come in the presence of a friend, settled down, and then found emotions I hadn’t been feeling for the whole day.

There are some emotions that are impossible for a person to feel alone.  Sometimes it’s too much to bear, a literal weight in our gut.  It’s at those times we need support to feel with us.  Someone to give space, to breathe with, who is able to give attunement while not getting overwhelmed themselves.  Compassion.

I hope Claire finds that.

In the age of #MeToo

I’ve honestly been trying to back away from the outrage across social media, but one thing is clear from it: there is an incredible amount of hurt out there.  There are the victims of rape and sexual assault, but on the other hand there are all the men who are victims of childhoods where their tender emotions were dismissed and mocked, who have been compensating their whole lives6)of course, childhood past is in no way an excuse for abusive behavior – in either sex.  There are intense feelings on all sides.  And so many people want to be heard and validated.

This is when it’s important to act from a place that feelings are always right.  Feeling incredibly hurt and distrustful is right.  Feeling suspicious and afraid is right – and remember there are men living lives like that too.  What we need are to feel and get support being exactly where we are.

Let’s be clear: the call out culture makes sure no one feels safe enough to be that vulnerable, to be visible with what’s there in the present moment – or even be in a state to offer real support.  We also need to let go of any idea that healing involves state justice – the courtroom process is incredibly traumatic for victims.  As Judith Levine writes, “The more we entrust the state to mete out justice for sexual infractions, including harassment, the more we collude in the manner in which it administers “justice.”  We know how violent that is.  It affects us all.  Every online spectacle in some way acts in a little voice that you too could be next.

I’m not here to condemn anyone for online violence such as shaming.  That in its own way would be perpetuating violence.  What I want is to encourage healing, reconciliation, the ability for everyone to feel safe being where they are, feeling what’s going on.  That’s getting to the truth of what’s going on in a moment and finding connections from there.  I want to encourage these mini “Truth and Reconciliation” meetings around the world, starting from where are are.

Going Full Circle

Reconciliation and building trust requires the basic understanding that feelings are always right.  Sometimes that’s distrust and rage.  Sometime’s it’s a congealed mix of sensations, a maelstrom of contradictory signals. Sometimes it’s a strange joy at being heard, unexplained and mystical, like getting out of a cave and seeing starlight after being underground for hours.  These are raw experiences, part of being beautifully human.

It’s funny how so many of us really want to know that fundamentally, deep down, we’re good.  And that can only come in each moment.  Knowing that whatever is going on now is good.  It’s right – wherever we are.

To give a personal example, in the last year, there were some breaks of trust with my partner because the polyamory situation that developed was not what she desired.  There was covert violence (e.g., emotional violence in NVC terms) on both sides – not intentionally, but as human reactions to stress (the rest of her life was chaotic too) and feeling pushed.  We might have broken up – distrust was heavy. However, after some time and communication, both of us were able to just be in that state of distrust with each other, without blame.  It was a raw experience with many subtleties I can’t describe in words.  Once that started, other states came to the surface – and those moments of simply being ourselves with all that shit were, in retrospect, moments of love.  When we relaxed into the sense that our feelings were right, the other’s feeling was right, then there was the sense that we were right – and good.  And we still loved each other.  A different kind of trust started to grow.

It’s funny how so many of us really want to know that fundamentally, deep down, we’re good.  And that can only come in each moment.  Knowing that whatever is going on now is good.  Our experience is right – wherever we are.  And when we communicate in our words, in our tone, in our body language, and in our eyes to another person that we see their experience and it is right, that is the beginning of a true reconciliation.

I hope it’s clear this kind of experience can’t happen on the internet7)but hey, this can be shared on the internet, so please  do that! – or even in crowded, rushed circumstances.  It takes creating a safe container – physically, emotionally and mentally.  A place to be.  Those containers are important, and I hope you take time to create and maintain your own, whatever it looks like.

And I hope you send messages to those you care about: your feelings are always right.  For you.

 

References   [ + ]

1. One patient, Eliott, after removing part of his frontal lobe, kept all of his intelligence but was unable to feel emotions in making decisions – and as a result, he was incapable of making decisions. Source: The Decisive Moment: How the Brain Makes Up Its Mind by Jonah Lehrer (2009
2. I’m not totally against Mark Manson’s philosophy, so long as it’s used to achieve short term goals. It’s more that fucking your feelings for a long time can get your life fucked
3. not her real name with many details changed
4. Of course I’m simplifying the situation  – trauma and rape is a large topic.
5. Non-Violent Communication emphases learning to stick to undebatable facts and feelings to avoid conflict
6. of course, childhood past is in no way an excuse for abusive behavior – in either sex
7. but hey, this can be shared on the internet, so please  do that!
December 14th, 2017|emotions, Intimacy, non-monogamy, relationships|0 Comments

Yoga and Meditation Instruction is now a Performance Art

Reading Time: 7 minutes

This is my second week based in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia.  I’m writing this in my home-stay overlooking a rice field, slightly sweating in shorts and a t-shirt while it’s a cold and damp winter back home in Canada.  Thousands upon thousands of westerners come here for the “tropical paradise”, yoga classes, and spiritual teachers, hoping to provoke a meaningful life change.


Quite frankly, I’ve found this “paradise” depressing.  The capitalism and endless shops and services are convenient, but a huge chasm in terms of seeing the Balinese way of life.  And the capitalistic mentality infests yoga in a big way.

Yoga is a huge business here – most of the people I’ve met staying here are doing a yoga teacher training.  And it is a true business – centres maximising profit by having large classes, layers of marketing,  clothing lines, continually selling you not just on a particular technique, but a lifestyle, an experience, a way of being.  An identity.  In the class I attended a couple days ago, the teacher was a walking advertisement for yoga – young, beautiful, graceful, with a voice that belonged in a Club Med advertisement.  In other words, the tone and pacing were very controlled and slow, saccharine sweet, conveying “trust me” in all the overtones – but I had no idea who she was as a person.  She was a yoga performance artist.

If authenticity has any value – and it is part of what is “sold” – there is a major contradiction here.  In her voice, the subtler levels of communication were not at all about listening to one’s own body, which involves developing awareness of the whole of the mind/body system, including inner voices for autonomy and one’s own pacing.   It was about creating dependence.   As I looked around me at the 20 or so other yogis (all female), noticing how they breathed, the anxiety in their eyes, a deep unsettling realisation occurred to me.  I was looking mostly at yoga addicts.  In a cult-like atmosphere.

As far as addictions go, this is likely a far healthier one than heroin.  But I want to call it what it is: when you’re dependant on the yoga “vibe”, the blissed out smiles, trained to an automatic following of everything a teacher says, it’s an addiction, a cult-like dependence.  And like with any addiction, there is a cost.

November 9th, 2017|authenticity, meditation, transformation, Travel and Places, yoga|0 Comments