Embracing my feelings
I noticed one morning when I was waking up last week that I was sad. I recognized it was my usual once a year sadness that I get this time of year. After my children left from their holiday visit, my nephew visited for a week. That visit helped to push off the sadness; it distracted me from the inevitable. Now I’m in the sad. I am recognizing that I don’t want to push the sad away. That just makes it worse. It leaks through the cracks. In years past, I would distract myself and find other things to fill my head with. Yet the sadness would remain like a dark cloud. I think that now I am much better at recognizing that I don’t want to push the sad away. That said, there is still a part of me that doesn’t like dealing with the sad. It’s the judgement part. The judgement part tells me I don’t deserve to be sad. I am observing that. I think that my judgement wants to keep me safe. Sadness can be a heavy space to sit in, and perhaps my judgement doesn’t want heavy. Perhaps my judgement is worried that I will stay sad forever. That would be horrible. The reality is I will not stay sad forever. Later during the morning when I was sad, I was suddenly feeling not so sad. I was able to connect with my sangha. I was able to look at the activities I had planned for the day, and I felt fortunate. I know that when I feel grateful, that takes a lot of my sadness away. I also know that I can be in sadness, gratitude, and even happiness at the same time. My world is not dualistic. One does not exist without the other.
I also believe my judgement is truly judging, comparing me to others who are suffering. I have a good life and a warm home. I am financially stable. My health is good. What right do I have to be sad? Yet denying myself my feelings is dangerous. When I concern myself with judgement’s statements about my sadness, I am actually not feeling the sadness: I am battling with judgement. It’s another way judgement is protecting me from being sad...forever. The surrender to sadness is hard. I don’t like feeling like shit. But it seems that I have to go through the shit to start to feel better.
My sleep pattern is disrupted. This side effect is a typical part of my life this time of year. I wake up around 2 AM, and I worry about things. Did I buy a new car because I needed a car or because I wanted to escape from these unpleasant feelings? So what if I did? I can afford the car; why is this an issue? Am I doing right by the global environment getting a new car? Why is this nonsense keeping me up? I think I’m awake because I want answers. Answers to these questions that I don’t need answers for.
Here’s what I know: Spring will come. Longer days will come. It happens every year. Just like it seems I write about the challenge of these January blahs every year. Yet every year, I notice I am disappointed. It’s like that friend who you aren’t really friendly with that shows up at your door or in your text messages. “Uh, I have to deal with her again?” Yes. When will this emotional change no longer be a surprise? If I know it’s coming and I’m aware it’s coming, will I suddenly be in dread? Will my Novembers be something like, “Oh no! Sad times are coming. How can I be ready?” I don’t want that kind of preparation. I want to just be. I want to be able to sit in sadness and just sit. Just like I sit in happiness. I remember last May, I watched my lilacs bloom. I love lilac bushes. At my current home, I have two lilac bushes. One of them blooms in big, puffy, fragrant balls. It’s so beautiful. And then it isn’t. I get these magical puff balls for five days, maybe a week. And then they are gone. The next part of time comes through; the next plants grow and bloom. So I’d like to treat my sadness like the puffballs of lilacs. I will sit with it a bit. Then it will pass, and it will be time to start noticing the buds for the leaves in my garden again.
