Emotion Tunnels

I first learned the phrase “emotion tunnels” from the book Burnout by Emily Nagoski and Amelia Nagoski. In the book, they explain that our emotions are tunnels and we must move all the way through them. When we get stuck in the middle of a feeling, because we are scared or anxious or try to numb it or distract ourselves from it, the emotion fails to complete and we get stuck, which leads to emotional exhaustion.

This simple and brilliant definition made so much sense to me. But over time, we forget helpful things like this (or at least I do). Thankfully, my Burnout presentation (loosely based on the Nagoski sisters’ amazing work) got booked for an Alberta teachers’ conference this month, and when I reviewed my slides I realised that I hadn’t been completing some emotion tunnels.

One morning a few weeks ago, I was partway through eating my bowl of Shreddies, when I felt an overwhelming tidal wave of grief. I counteracted this experience with my usual defences: focusing harder on the novel I was reading to ward off any sad feelings, logically approaching the situation by saying to myself, “There’s no reason why I should feel teary right now,” and attempting to ignore it.

An image rose up in my mind of a tunnel, the photo I use in my presentation, and I placed my cereal spoon into my bowl, laid my head down on my kitchen table and WEPT. It was like a storm went through me. I shook, I cried, I grieved, I scared both of my cats.

When it was over, I raised my head and took a few long, shuddering breaths. Immediately, I felt different. Lighter. Less tense and stressed. I still didn’t know why I was suddenly overcome by sadness. But it didn’t matter. This was beyond knowing. What happened to me that morning at the table was simply feeling, and getting out of my own way to allow that particular emotion tunnel to complete the work it was trying to do.

Way later, I realised why I was grieving. But the key was to allow the emotion to have its way, in a safe space, alone in my kitchen. We live in such a cold, cerebral world, where we try to figure out our feelings and experiences rather than actually feel them. Sometimes this helps us to survive, when we are in pain, but mostly it gives us a spinning wheel inside of our soul, that’s desperate to complete.

I just listened to Rob Bell’s excellent and inspiring podcast called This Must be the Void. He echoed so many of the same things I’ve been going through, and it was lovely to imagine that this feeling instead of thinking process is actually in the air – that something cool and interesting is happening on a more collective level. He quoted a phrase from a song (I’m sorry that I can’t remember the musician!) that said, “I’m wired for the new world.” I feel like this phrase is doing something in my very bones and marrow. It resonates and rings utterly true.

In the last few weeks, I’m allowing myself a lot more freedom to complete my emotion tunnels instead of blocking them or attempting to understand them. The understanding comes later. First, there’s a lot to feel, and that feeling happens in the body, not in the mind. What a ride it’s been. I feel utterly changed by this process.

What emotion tunnels do you have to complete? Are there any feelings that have come up for you that you’ve been trying to avoid? Let’s discuss!

Choose Hope

Choose Hope

Lately the state of the world has me in despair. The overt signs of fascism being normalized sends darts of fear down my spine.

Last week I had to order myself off of Twitter and Facebook. What I read there about missing children and legalized border atrocities was too horrible to wrap my mind around. It’s impossible to understand how this type of poisonous hatred has taken hold and why more “decent/moral/truthful” people are not doing anything about it.

I intentionally shut down the angry, terrible, cesspool internet and went for a long walk in the spring sunshine. I wrote on my deck, chapter after chapter of my novel with scenes of hope and beauty to combat my abject anxiety and despair. I went swimming in our lovely townhouse complex pool. I re-read old John Grisham thrillers. I hugged my kids, kissed my husband, texted my friends, petted my two cats.

We all have to do what we can to inject love and compassion back into our damaged world. If we truly believe that love will win out in the end, as the Allies believed in the darkest days of WWII, then it’s up to us to live each day like it’s reasonable to hope for decency and kindness to prevail over racism, bigotry and patriarchal abuse.

Part of choosing hope also means standing up to tyranny and evil. This involves using our voices publicly, while we can, to speak for those who are marginalized and oppressed. It means taking to the streets to protest. We need numbers in this fight, for democracy and freedom is what’s on the line here. If the news doesn’t frighten you yet, stream The Handmaid’s Tale season 2 and watch as they lay out the signs of democracy breaking down, step by step. Then, move away from denial, speak up and get involved.

Spread light and encouragement and hope and inclusiveness. When you see evil, hatred and cruelty, with someone’s dignity under attack, call it out (online or in person). Give your voice to those who struggle to be heard. There is no such thing as “neutral” in the political and social landscape we are in midway through 2018. You are either on the side of inclusive love or exclusive hate. A world war was literally fought to resolve this, and yet here we are again, seven decades later, facing similar and devastating threats to freedom and democracy.

I’m choosing hope. And love. And tolerance. I’m looking to the unshakeable optimism and energy of millennials and coming alongside them to offer my help. Hopefully they can achieve what us Gen-Xers have failed to do. Wringing my hands in despair is not going to move us forward into a new and better age. We need boldness, courage, grace, dignity, love.

And hope.

Retreat

Everyone can benefit from a retreat, but women in particular are in need of a getaway to refresh and refuel from their daily work of giving and sacrifice.

Last week I took myself to a small town in Washington state for a one-night writing retreat as I’m trying to finish my current manuscript before the kids are home for the summer. I booked it weeks ago, hoping for an ocean view room as nothing sparks creativity better than the sight and sound of the waves.

I waited until the kids were both home from school in the mid-afternoon so I could kiss them and hug them and say goodbye in person, then I jumped in my car and drove across the border with a light heart and a blanket sense of joy and peace.

The whole thing felt RIGHT. I used to plan writing retreats for groups in June at a Bed and Breakfast until the place we went to was sold and I didn’t muster up enough energy to find a new one. A couple of years went by and I didn’t go away on my own to write. Last week I realized just how much I’d missed it.

I popped into a local grocery store and took my time wandering the aisles, choosing food for one person for the next three meals. It was like playing house. Never has grocery shopping been so fun, with only my tastes and preferences to consider.

I checked in around 5 pm, unpacking and heading outside to my tiny deck to soak up my scrap of ocean view. I brought my writing binder outside and got down to work, luxuriating in the sense of being alone and doing my favourite activity on earth in a beautiful location.

We all need to make time and space in our schedules to retreat from our daily lives. This one-night stay felt profound to me, for it signified that I was worth the expense of this short trip. I used to talk myself out of these kinds of luxuries, figuring there was something more worthwhile to spend money on. But now I’m realizing that the freedom and joy I experienced while I was away has no price tag. It’s valuable beyond measure.

If you are a woman who gives to others and doesn’t refill her tank with activities she loves, consider this a gentle nudge to take yourself on a retreat. Even if it’s a solitary walk for an hour, build a sense of retreat into your life. Your spouse and your kids will thank you as you will be returning to them as your very best self, refreshed and ready for what comes next.

My one-night retreat was a week ago and I still feel utterly calm and balanced as a result of taking some time out just for me. I got a lot of work done, I consumed delicious food and drink, I slept in, I walked along the water’s edge, I soaked up the silence and I poured my heart out onto the page. And when I returned home I was changed for the better because I valued myself enough to go away on a retreat that was custom designed for me.

Where are you going on retreat and how will you fill your soul while you are away?

Why Wonder Woman is so Important

Wonder Woman is critically important for female leadership roles in Hollywood, but that’s not what this post is about. Yes, it makes me furious that Wonder Woman HAD to be a blow-out success to ensure that a woman director could be handed the reins to a 150 million dollar budget in the future. Male directors get that opportunity on a Tuesday, but for a woman it’s a historic moment.

And she NAILS it. Patty Jenkins has made a terrific film that beat Iron Man, Thor and Captain America (among other male-centred movies) for opening weekend box office. All of this matters. Wonder Woman’s success is beautiful and inspiring for a lot of reasons, but it also signifies that a big shift in storytelling and leadership is not only possible but probable. That fact alone makes me stand up and cheer.

What’s remarkable about Wonder Woman, apart from the lighting, the cinematography, the costumes, the music, the performances, the stunts, the story – everything, really – is the message at the centre of it. When a woman is the lead superhero (a goddess, even), she can be kick-ass strong and brave while also being kind and vulnerable. Diana Prince cares about everyone. Not just the ones who fall under her specific mission, but every single person affected by pain, loss, hunger, war, death.

As Glennon Doyle says, “There’s no such thing as other people’s children.” This is a uniquely feminine perspective, living deep in the hearts of women everywhere, and FINALLY, Wonder Woman captures this universal compassion in her story.

It moved me to my core. I recognized it. I felt it in my bones. Since Trump’s election, when the mostly sane and moral world has gone stark-raving mad and human decency began to rot on the vine, I’ve been saying that it’s time for women to have a go with world leadership. We can’t possibly screw it up worse than the men who are in charge and have been for so, so, so long.

It’s reassuring to see a movie come along that demonstrates these ideals in action. Wonder Woman advances the notion that we are all responsible for the problems of our world. No endless cycle of blaming or the myth of redemptive violence. We are the ones we have been waiting for. Chris Pine’s character states, “You can either do nothing or you can do something. I already tried doing nothing and it doesn’t work.” It’s time to pick up our sword and go into battle.

When we come across pain, we cannot turn away, saying, “It’s not my problem.” This isn’t about fairness, as the movie states brilliantly. It’s about what you believe.

Diana believes in love. She comes to understand that the connections we form with other people are the fuel that will sustain us as we pursue justice and wisdom. Diana’s rage reaches a boiling point when she is faced with personal loss and suffering, but she continues to fight for freedom and safety for EVERYONE, not just a select few.

Wonder Woman is genius filmmaking, on many levels (one of my favourite aspects was the way she photographed the intricate action sequences, where for once you could actually see what was happening frame by frame – thank you Patty Jenkins for your attention to detail and willingness to slow it down!), but the icing on the cake is the female perspective on violence, relationships, leadership, empathy and the future of peace in our world.

Brava, Wonder Woman filmmakers. And thank you.

What True Love Looks Like

What True Love Looks Like

Okay, it’s Valentine’s Day, and I admit that I’m feeling a little gooey and squishy about those I love today. Like many people in middle age, I’ve seen all kinds of love and I think I finally have a handle on what makes love true instead of false.

Real love doesn’t manipulate, force, cajole, beg or bully. It is kind at its heart and forgiving when things go wrong (which is often). True love is rare in this world, because it is freely given and freely received, with no strings attached. Most love doesn’t work like this. It’s transactional in nature, but that’s an exchange, not a gift.

I’ve been married to Jason now for almost nineteen years. I’d happily do it all over again, even with every up and down we’ve faced. We are both completely different people now than when we met, but at our core, the love and generosity we have shown to one another has grown instead of faded.

When you add in two kids, our love life has a different shape and texture to it now, but it doesn’t feel diminished. We’ve added children and cats into our family’s recipe and our day-to-day experience is sweeter as a result. But that doesn’t mean it’s been easy. Nothing worthwhile and lasting is ever simple and straightforward. We fight for what we want most and that makes the reward of what we have built even better.

Here’s my short Valentine’s list of what true love looks like for me:

Kindness

First and foremost, kindness is key. Jason and I both work at treating each other with basic dignity, respect and courtesy. Some days this is hard, but it’s always worth it. One day a few years ago, I realized with a shock that I was often kinder to the barista at Starbucks or a stranger in a store than I was to the man I pledged to spend my life with. So I try to keep this quality front and centre in my home interactions.

Laughter

Life without laughing is not much fun. Happily, Jason and I like to make each other laugh and it’s a successful ingredient in our marriage. It’s not an exaggeration to say that we laugh, quite wildly, at least once a day and usually more. We aim to crack each other up as often as possible and this quality is like oil to grease the wheels of our relationship and keep it moving smoothly forward.

Generosity

For me, this means putting others’ needs ahead of my own from time to time. I don’t always do this, nor do I think it’s necessarily healthy to do this exclusively. As Anne Lamott says, “Now I take my turn and it’s a radical act.” But we live in a selfish world, so every single time I choose those I love over myself it’s a way to demonstrate my love through action, which means so much more than just words.

Commitment

One of the most precious aspects of a long-term marriage is that your commitment is demonstrated on a daily basis. It doesn’t matter how many years you are together if they are mostly drudgery, but if they are peaceful, comfortable and safe, it’s at least partly because you are both committed to each other. This means I choose Jason over every other man on earth and he chooses me over every other woman. Not once, but every single day we are alive.

Forgiveness

We’d never make it if we didn’t forgive each other. Jason and I have both committed to say, “I’m sorry” on a regular basis when we’ve behaved badly. We model this for our kids and it’s often challenging and wounding to our pride, but the vulnerability we demonstrate thaws the air between us and keeps our relationship warm and stable. We promised in our vows “to forgive and be forgiven” as both are equally difficult and we get a lot of practice in this area.

Space

Space to grow and be who we really are, without conforming to any mold or expected form, is one of the biggest gifts we give to each other. True love is always free. It doesn’t demand or hold grudges or resentments. It recognizes that room and air and light is required for growth and that healthy people continue to change and evolve as long as they are alive. Jason and I give this space willingly to each other and it’s one of my absolute favourite things about us as a couple.