Jon, wow. You are so honest and raw and I really appreciate it. Some comments which you or others might find helpful:
"Healing, more times than not, is really really uncomfortable. It’s painful. It’s hard." The appropriate comparison would be: While you are in an operating room without anesthesia, it's really, really uncomfortable, painful and hard. The easy(ier) part is called "being healed", not "healing". Of course, the comparison does not quite fit because we will never be fully healed, none of us. But we can definitely be something like "mostly healed". :)
Your metaphor with the floodgates seems fitting: You will at some point notice - maybe only in retrospect - that the wave that is rolling over you will turn into a smaller wave, and eventually into a trickle. Look out for that moment. You certainly have my full respect for not closing the floodgates again. And I am one of those who firmly believe that once you have worked yourself through everything that has built up, you will feel MUCH better. Many of your days at least. ;)
Whilst facing the big wave, a little known "hack" might help: You can talk with your emotions. (And almost anything else within yourself.) Try to bargain with them: "You leave me alone for the next two hours, and then I will willingly come back to you and intentionally feel you." From the people I have recommended this to, none have yet said it didn't work. Emotions are very happy to know that they will be intentionally welcomed, which is an unusual thing for them to hear. That's why a Yes is probable. But listen for their answer, which could come as a picture, a feeling of warmth or coldness, words, an image of a person, whatever. You'll know how to interpret it. And maybe two hours is too long for them. Or maybe they will allow your wish only with a certain caveat.
If you suddenly happen to feel like a weight is off your shoulders, you could probably interpretieren this as a Yes to your bargaining suggestion.
Generally, it might help to actually welcome the wave, facing it and all its emotions with curiosity, instead of hating that it is there (not presuming that this is what you were doing).
Thank you for your honesty and braveness. All the best. ❤️
I really appreciate you sharing these thoughts with me, Juli. I will take all of this and work to apply it to my journey. Especially the bit about bargaining with my emotions. Thanks for reading.
Extremely eloquent and something I needed to see as I feel the same way about my journey currently. You captured something I couldn’t put into words so beautifully! An amazing read and reminder of what it takes to keep going.
Jon - I liked your essay. I suspect many of us spend more time languishing than we would like. I certainly do. In your essay, you said..."One moment, I am in a flow state, powered by my creative spirit, then I look at everything I’m doing and sense that none of it matters.". Flow (as I assume you know) requires a balance between something with appropriately high challenge and also something that challenges you on the skills level. It is undeniable that when we are in flow, it is a very fulfilling thing. But being in flow and doing what we are "called" to do or become are not necessarily correlated. When you say you look at everything you are doing and sense that none of it matters... I am wondering if that is because what you are doing is not (yet) dialed in relative to what you need to evolve into next. (When I am practicing the piano I often find myself in a flow state, but I am definitely not called to be a piano player!) Just some food for thought!
Greg, for one thank you for reading. It means a lot. And second, what a thing to point out. You’re 100% right. I think that’s why I’m still searching—I can feel that I still haven’t found that “one” thing. But I keep looking, keep learning, keep searching. Thanks for sharing your perspective 🙏🏾
Jon, the only other piece I would offer is that the "thing" we are striving for does not have a goal line; it is an ongoing, never-ending journey. In my mind, whatever your current efforts might be, even if they are not that thing we are called to do or become, they are almost certainly part of the path you need to find it, so do not be discouraged, be alert. (I will never be a great piano player, but may well have an experience while playing that is triggered by the fingers on the keys, that will point me to the next step on my journey. So, don't abandon what you are doing.)
I saw it mentioned in comments before mine, but I’d like to echo how stunning, refreshing, and delightful your willingness to be honest in your writing is. This was a gorgeous read and definitely held some much needed reminders for me.
As the quintessential phoenix forever rising out of the ashes, brought about by circumstance or tragedy, whilst dealing with depression since my late twenties, like all who do, I see languishing as necessary to not breaking down, for good. As you would do in high seas, facing insurmountable waves, floating is a necessity alternative to drowning. The major obstacle is the exhaustion, the anguish caused by the uncertainty of not knowing how far the shore is. The healing process will go on as long as your purpose gives you the strength to rise up again, as often as needed, to attain orgiveness of your own guilt and release from anguish and eventually serenity and peace of mind. My shore is someone who is very dear to me. I will always continue to reach the shore. I wish you well.
Thank you for another essay that is honest and stirs lots of emotions. When reading the opening and the image of the thermometer I was thinking about the concept of negative capability. (A therapist of mine brought the concept to my attention a few years ago.) It the acceptance of the middle, the paradox, the negative capability, that creates room for integration and creativity. And it’s hard work moving toward it. Thank you again.
Jon, wow. You are so honest and raw and I really appreciate it. Some comments which you or others might find helpful:
"Healing, more times than not, is really really uncomfortable. It’s painful. It’s hard." The appropriate comparison would be: While you are in an operating room without anesthesia, it's really, really uncomfortable, painful and hard. The easy(ier) part is called "being healed", not "healing". Of course, the comparison does not quite fit because we will never be fully healed, none of us. But we can definitely be something like "mostly healed". :)
Your metaphor with the floodgates seems fitting: You will at some point notice - maybe only in retrospect - that the wave that is rolling over you will turn into a smaller wave, and eventually into a trickle. Look out for that moment. You certainly have my full respect for not closing the floodgates again. And I am one of those who firmly believe that once you have worked yourself through everything that has built up, you will feel MUCH better. Many of your days at least. ;)
Whilst facing the big wave, a little known "hack" might help: You can talk with your emotions. (And almost anything else within yourself.) Try to bargain with them: "You leave me alone for the next two hours, and then I will willingly come back to you and intentionally feel you." From the people I have recommended this to, none have yet said it didn't work. Emotions are very happy to know that they will be intentionally welcomed, which is an unusual thing for them to hear. That's why a Yes is probable. But listen for their answer, which could come as a picture, a feeling of warmth or coldness, words, an image of a person, whatever. You'll know how to interpret it. And maybe two hours is too long for them. Or maybe they will allow your wish only with a certain caveat.
If you suddenly happen to feel like a weight is off your shoulders, you could probably interpretieren this as a Yes to your bargaining suggestion.
Generally, it might help to actually welcome the wave, facing it and all its emotions with curiosity, instead of hating that it is there (not presuming that this is what you were doing).
Thank you for your honesty and braveness. All the best. ❤️
I really appreciate you sharing these thoughts with me, Juli. I will take all of this and work to apply it to my journey. Especially the bit about bargaining with my emotions. Thanks for reading.
Much love 🙏🏾
Awesome. Would love to hear how it went! :)
Extremely eloquent and something I needed to see as I feel the same way about my journey currently. You captured something I couldn’t put into words so beautifully! An amazing read and reminder of what it takes to keep going.
Appreciate the kind words, CeCe. And thank you for reading!
Jon - I liked your essay. I suspect many of us spend more time languishing than we would like. I certainly do. In your essay, you said..."One moment, I am in a flow state, powered by my creative spirit, then I look at everything I’m doing and sense that none of it matters.". Flow (as I assume you know) requires a balance between something with appropriately high challenge and also something that challenges you on the skills level. It is undeniable that when we are in flow, it is a very fulfilling thing. But being in flow and doing what we are "called" to do or become are not necessarily correlated. When you say you look at everything you are doing and sense that none of it matters... I am wondering if that is because what you are doing is not (yet) dialed in relative to what you need to evolve into next. (When I am practicing the piano I often find myself in a flow state, but I am definitely not called to be a piano player!) Just some food for thought!
Greg, for one thank you for reading. It means a lot. And second, what a thing to point out. You’re 100% right. I think that’s why I’m still searching—I can feel that I still haven’t found that “one” thing. But I keep looking, keep learning, keep searching. Thanks for sharing your perspective 🙏🏾
Jon, the only other piece I would offer is that the "thing" we are striving for does not have a goal line; it is an ongoing, never-ending journey. In my mind, whatever your current efforts might be, even if they are not that thing we are called to do or become, they are almost certainly part of the path you need to find it, so do not be discouraged, be alert. (I will never be a great piano player, but may well have an experience while playing that is triggered by the fingers on the keys, that will point me to the next step on my journey. So, don't abandon what you are doing.)
I saw it mentioned in comments before mine, but I’d like to echo how stunning, refreshing, and delightful your willingness to be honest in your writing is. This was a gorgeous read and definitely held some much needed reminders for me.
Thanks for the kind words, Riley. And I really appreciate you taking the time to read my work 🙏🏾
This is a poignant, profound and very much relevant piece for me, thank you.
Appreciate that, James!
As the quintessential phoenix forever rising out of the ashes, brought about by circumstance or tragedy, whilst dealing with depression since my late twenties, like all who do, I see languishing as necessary to not breaking down, for good. As you would do in high seas, facing insurmountable waves, floating is a necessity alternative to drowning. The major obstacle is the exhaustion, the anguish caused by the uncertainty of not knowing how far the shore is. The healing process will go on as long as your purpose gives you the strength to rise up again, as often as needed, to attain orgiveness of your own guilt and release from anguish and eventually serenity and peace of mind. My shore is someone who is very dear to me. I will always continue to reach the shore. I wish you well.
Thank you for another essay that is honest and stirs lots of emotions. When reading the opening and the image of the thermometer I was thinking about the concept of negative capability. (A therapist of mine brought the concept to my attention a few years ago.) It the acceptance of the middle, the paradox, the negative capability, that creates room for integration and creativity. And it’s hard work moving toward it. Thank you again.
Amen to this! 🙏🏾