11. Feeling as though your worst enemies are your thoughts.
You’re beginning to realize that your thoughts create your experience, and it’s often not until we’re pushed to our wits' end that we even try to take control of them—and that’s when we realize that we were in control all along.
12. Feeling unsure of who you really are.
Your past illusions about who you “should” be are dissolving. You feel unsure because it is uncertain! You’re in the process of evolving, and we don’t become uncertain when we change for the worse; we become angry and closed off. In other words: If what you’re experiencing is insecurity or uncertainty, it’s usually going to lead to something better.
13. Recognizing how far you still have to go.
When you realize this, it’s because you can also see where you’re headed; it means you finally know where and who you want to be.
14. “Knowing” things you don’t want to know, such as what someone is really feeling, or that a relationship isn’t going to last, or that you won’t be at your job much longer.
A lot of “irrational” anxiety comes from subconsciously sensing something, yet not taking it seriously because it isn’t logical.
15. Having an intense desire to speak up for yourself.
Becoming angry with how much you’ve let yourself be walked on or how much you’ve let other people’s voices get into your head is a sign that you’re finally ready to stop listening and love yourself by respecting yourself first.
16. Realizing you are the only person responsible for your life and your happiness.
This kind of emotional autonomy is terrifying, because it means that if you mess up, it’s all on you. At the same time, realizing it is the only way to be truly free. The risk is worth the reward on this one, always.
7
WHAT the
FEELINGS
you most
SUPPRESS
are trying to
TELL YOU
Emotional intelligence is not how infrequently you feel anything “bad”
because you’ve developed the discipline and wisdom “not to.” It’s not how easily you choose what you think, how you let it affect you, or how placidly you react to any given situation.
Real emotional maturity is how thoroughly you let yourself feel anything.
Everything. Whatever comes. It is simply the knowing that the worst thing that could ever happen…is just a feeling at the end of the day.
That’s it! A feeling. Imagine the very worst, the only thing bad about it is…how you would feel about it. What you would make it out to be, what you’d assume the repercussions mean, and how those would ultimately affect…how you feel.
A sense of fear, a pinch or throb or sting. A hunger pang or ego kick. The sense of worthlessness, the idea of not belonging. (Interesting how physical feelings are always quick and transient, but the ideas we hold of pain always seem to stick around…)
But we avoid feeling anything because we have more or less been taught that our feelings have lives of their own. That they’ll carry on forever if we give them even a moment of our awareness.
Have you ever felt joy for more than a few minutes? What about anger?
No? How about tension, depression, and sadness? Those have lasted longer, haven’t they? Weeks and months and years at a time, right?
That’s because those aren’t feelings. They are symptoms. But we’ll get to their causes in a minute.
What you have to know is that suffering is just the refusal to accept what is. That’s it. Etymologically, it comes from the Latin word to “from below
to bear.” Or, to “resist, endure, put under.”
So healing is really just letting yourself feel.
It is unearthing your traumas and embarrassments and losses and allowing yourself the emotions that you could not have in the moment that you were having those experiences. It’s letting yourself filter and process what you had to suppress at the time to keep going, maybe even to survive.
We all fear that our feelings are too big, especially in the moment we’re actually having them. We were taught not be too loving, we’d get hurt; too smart, we’d get bullied; too fearful, we’d be vulnerable. To be compliant with what other people wanted us to feel. As kids we were punished for crying out if our emotional experience wasn’t in accordance with our parents' convenience. (No wonder we still respond the way we do.) The point is that you aren’t the one who is afraid of feeling too much. It’s the people who called you crazy and dramatic and wrong. The people who don’t know how to handle it, who want you to stay where you are. Those are the people who want you to keep not feeling. Not you. You know how I know?
Because your numbness isn’t feeling nothing, it’s feeling everything, and never having learned to process anything at all. Numbness is not nothing, neutral is nothing. Numbness is everything at once.
Because your sadness is saying, “I am still attached to something being different.” Your guilt is saying, “I fear I have done bad in someone’s eyes,”
and your shame, “I fear I am bad in someone’s eyes.”
Your anxiety is your resistance to the process, your last grasps at a control you are becoming more and more aware that you do not have. Your tiredness is your resistance to who you really are, the person you actually want to be. Your annoyance is your repressed anger. Your depression, biological factors aside of course, is everything coming to the surface, and you bellowing down to stow it away.
And your arrival at the conclusion that you cannot go on like this, that you’re missing out, that you’re off-track and feeling stuck and lost, is you realizing that you need not change your feelings. You just have to learn to lean into them and see what they are trying to tell you.
Trying to change how you feel is like finding a road sign that points in the opposite direction of where you had intended to go and getting out to try to turn the sign, rather than your course of action.
