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!

3 Words for 2021

Every year I choose 3 words to focus on. For 2021, I picked peace, priorities and potential (can you tell I’m in a poetry class in my final semester of my undergrad and we are focusing on techniques like alliteration?).

Living into these words looks different from year to year, but I like the process of noticing how they filter into my life month by month, and then reflecting on them at the end of the year. This is what I’m hoping to discover with each of these words:

Peace

I think of peace not as a permanent state of being but as a worthy goal to aim for. I long for peace in my relationships, within my own mind and heart, and for my words and actions to reflect peace toward others and the larger world. For me, peace is best achieved through controlled, deep breathing and meditation to slow my thoughts down. When I fail to achieve peace by speaking rudely to others or thinking violent thoughts, I try to centre myself, apologize, and try again to promote peace from the inside out.

Priorities

As Queen Oprah once said, “There’s no such thing as balance, only choices.” In 2021, I want to make better use of my time by better managing my choices. I try to remember Annie Dillard’s wise words, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.” Years ago, I practiced saying no to what I didn’t want to do in order to have more time for what I really wanted to accomplish. Now, it’s much harder than that, for I have to say no to things I like in order to make space for what I love. My key priorities this year are writing, speaking, graduating university, resting and nurturing those I’m closest to (and being nurtured by them in return).

Potential

Late last year, I heard Rob Bell say in one of his RobCast’s, “As writers, we have to make peace with unrealized potential.” I loved this quote so much that I wrote it down and stuck it above my writing desk. Potential has long been the bane of my existence. For decades, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough. The fear that I was wasting my potential dogged me every single day. I’m exhausted by fighting with my own “unrealized potential.” This is the year I’m determined to lay down this endless grudge match with myself. I’m going to struggle with this concept until I’ve made peace with it.

What are your words for 2021? What areas of growth would you like to focus on in the coming year?

Space

Space

Lately I’ve had one word front and centre in my mind and experience: SPACE.

Space to be human. Space to breathe. Space to exist, to think, to discover, to play.

In our modern existence, where so much of life is done behind a screen (or one of my biggest pet peeves, which proves we are living in the forecasted future robot age: people walking in public spaces while staring vacantly at a tiny glowing machine in their hand), anything that brings us back to our own bodies and offers space from machines is becoming an urgent priority.

At the beginning of May, Jason and I went to Seattle to see Rob Bell on his Holy Shift tour. We met up with 4 friends who flew in from Calgary for the evening and a marvellous time was had by all. Both Rob Bell and his opening act (the hilarious Irish author Peter Rollins, who introduced himself by saying “I sell existential despair for money”) mentioned the word space during the tour. I love that feeling of kismet, when you are pondering a concept and others are recognizing its importance at the same time.

We have to work harder than ever to build space into our lives. For me, minimalism is a helpful container for the idea of space, because minimalism is about stripping away what doesn’t matter so we can isolate what we actually do prioritize. Space facilitates this process, for we need to intentionally dial down cultural noise in order to arrive at what we are really on this earth to be or do.

Pete Rollins spoke about how we have to define ourselves by who we aren’t before we can figure out who we are. This has stuck with me. Space comes into this because we are in desperate need of room to explore and discover what matters most to us in a world that is constantly invested in selling us what we don’t require.

I’m working on creating space in several areas of my life:

My Schedule

I’ve never been happier than now, when I’ve cut so much out of my calendar. Saying no to things I don’t want to do feels bloody fantastic and gives me leisure time to enjoy the activities I do want to do.

My Relationships

Carefully curating the people I allow into my inner circle has radically shifted my peace of mind. I want safe people around me. Encouraging ones. Friends who make me laugh. Those I can count on to tell the truth and be there when the chips are down.

My Inner Life

This one is critical. It involves refusing to stop scrolling through my phone whenever I have a spare moment. I’m determined to allow space here for my soul to expand, breathe, heal and grow. 

Our world is a dangerous, unsettled place and we need every available person to wake up and stop numbing with distractions. We need to tune back in, to ourselves first, and then to other actual human beings. To listen to one another. This is the way back home, to better priorities and more meaningful values.

For the last few months I’ve been trying a “name tag” experiment where I refer to anyone in a name tag by their name. I attempt to start a conversation, even if it’s awkward (especially if it’s awkward). The amount of people ordering coffees or buying groceries while staring mindlessly at their phones is alarming. Real flesh-and-blood people are serving us and we can’t even make eye contact? I’m done doing that. My phone stays in my purse.

Space is a valuable commodity. Let’s build it in. The process of waking up to our own lives is profound. Everything has been here, this whole time…trees, sun, flowers, birds singing, cats sleeping curled up like croissants, mothers walking down the street holding hands with toddlers, the barista carefully preparing your specialty coffee while she is being ignored, the people we love most going about their lives while we’ve been too busy to dial in and notice.

Make the space. You won’t get chances forever. The good stuff is right here, right now. It’s time to wake up and pay attention.

Student

Student

I’ve just begun my second semester at Kwantlen Polytechnic University. In the fall I took a Creative Writing class and fell madly in love with the notion of myself as a student, even as a woman in my mid-forties. I proved that I could succeed, I learned so much from my professor, and I gradually became aware of my weakest areas as a writer (story structure, stakes and imagery).

Now I’m enrolled in two courses on Mondays. In the morning I’m doing a third year course in YA Fiction with the same prof from the fall term and in the afternoon I’m in a first year English requirement class every student must take.

When I get home at 4:15 on Mondays my brain is a lumpy oatmeal-like mush but my soul is fulfilled and accomplished. I can literally feel myself becoming a better writer. My skills are sharpening up and my critical thinking abilities are waking up from hibernation.

We must all challenge ourselves. If you are terrified of something, whether it’s making a fool out of yourself, public speaking, traveling to a developing country (not a shithole one, though, as any sane person knows there is no such thing because all countries have redeeming qualities), taking a class or confronting someone when they are being offensive, by all means: DO IT. The longer you wait, the more power it has over you.

A long time ago I heard my beloved Rob Bell suggest that we write the word “student” on an index card and carry it around in our pocket to remind us that we are always learning. None of us ever have life figured out. I loved this idea and carried this card around for months.

Now I am actually a student. I’m working part-time as a background performer in Vancouver’s vibrant film and TV industry and it’s fun, educational and endlessly fascinating. It also pays for my classes and textbooks. This makes me feel both proud and satisfied, like I’ve given the best of myself to my kids, my husband and my community for the last fifteen years but now, hot damn, I am also building into my own career and education. And I love it.

We always have more to learn. Increased ways to grow and fears to face head-on. My anxiety over plane travel and possible turbulence has been aided by flying weekly last winter and this one for speaking engagements at teachers’ conferences in other provinces. Thinking about what scares us does not help us to overcome. We need to actually do it in order to break its hold on us.

Every one of us is a student of life. The key is to remain open-minded with a soft heart so we can adapt to the unique challenges we face. We can’t plan for every outcome, but we can build up our confidence and resilience by trying new things and succeeding.

The Future is Female

Since the U.S. election in November 2016, I’ve been saying some variation of “the future is female” to anyone who will listen (and to some who will not), so to hear Rob Bell use this phrase in his fantastic story A Goat for a Boat re-lit a fuse somewhere in my soul.

For huge global change to occur, the existing power structure must topple. This often involves life-and-death struggle, bloodshed, loss and pain. It’s a long, slow march with a high price tag for the leaders of the movement.

The patriarchy is a long-held institution and its destruction will be costly, ugly and difficult. But also necessary. If the future is female, then we are in for quite a ride before this prophecy unfolds.

It’s interesting that Wonder Woman has been such a smash hit, coming at a time when U.S. politics feel so dangerous and damaging to many of us. I think this is all part of the deconstruction of the patriarchy as we have long understood it. Of course those at the top of this power structure feel threatened. No one wants to lose their hold on power, but as history has shown us, eventually all systems implode when the pressures inside of them and outside of them become too strong.

We are living this out. It’s going to take a long time and be brutally awful before it’s through. But the process of change is stirring. Anyone paying attention can see that something is happening in our world.

As the plot of Wonder Woman so brilliantly demonstrated, compassion and truth are the keys to a future run by women. We are stronger when we lead as a team, with our arms linked, instead of from an outdated top-down hierarchical approach. Those days are behind us. Something new is unfolding. It’s time for love to take the lead.

My 14-year-old daughter gives me hope for the future. She has grown up believing that she is a leader. She promotes fairness, equality, gentleness. Nothing in her says that boys are better leaders. That cultural programming never had a chance with Ava and most of her friends. They simply don’t buy it, and why should they? It’s garbage and always has been.

The future is female. Thanks, Rob, for echoing this sentiment so beautifully in your clever children’s story. The time is now to recognize the obvious limitations of white men holding onto power at any cost. The way forward is to include everyone when the decisions are being made. We need many different voices at the table.

Women have a lot to say. We can contribute. We are leaders with a fresh perspective on local and global issues. It’s our time to shine, to collaborate, to offer up solutions with peace and kindness at their core instead of violence and competition. If the future is female, our outlook is bright and optimistic.