an every emotion day ðĐððĪŠðĒððĨ°ððĄð
How many emotions have you experienced so far today?
1? 3? 10? 26? ð
What feelings have they included?
Anger? Excitement? Loneliness? Joy? Fear? Anticipation? Sadness? Hope? Frustration? Happiness?
I wonder how your feelings and mood have varied - even in the past 24 hours.
In my conversations and connections, there has been a noticeable and dramatic shift in tone and mood since I wrote here last week.
If you relate, perhaps you, too, have experienced a shift.
Even within this change, however, there is a lot of variation.
One of my first conversations Monday morning highlighted the current complexity of feelings. "One of the 44,000" named the mix of excitement, anticipation, energy, nervousness, and determination she was witnessing, and feeling, in response to the altered political landscape.
The feelings weren't all positive. They weren't all negative.
It reminded me of a related conversation last week when a client described a mix of "good" and "sad" days. Upon closer inspection, we noted that each day, instead of being all good or all bad, contained a mix of feelings.
And, until recently, it had been both a delight and a frustration that my daughter could quickly shift between extremes to declare that a day was the "Best! Day! Ever!" or "Worst day of my life!" based solely on the most recent event. ð
Even if she'd had hours of enjoyment, it could quickly get overshadowed by an injury, disappointment, or the denial of her most recent request.
Our brains love to simplify. At any age.
It's a tool and strategy that comes automatically. It protects us against the constant overwhelm of recognizing and processing the immense complexity and over-stimulation constantly bombarding us.
Like any tool, it can be helpful.
And, like most things, it can also be detrimental.
When you simplify your feelings into "good" or "bad" you quickly miss the immense value from recognizing (and tending to) the many shades in and between these apparent opposites.
We need look no further than this week's news...
As I speak with the leaders and changemakers involved in social and racial justice efforts - especially as we note both the shift to Kamala Harris as presumptive Democratic nominee for president and the atrocious death of Sonya Massey (#TriggerWarning - and I mean TRIGGER WARNING), these themes are paramount:
Excitement. Energy. Hope. Possibility.
AND...
Nervousness. Anger. Heartbreak. Fear.
Whether you respect history or have lived experiences that inform your expectations, you know that great progress and success within and among people from historically marginalized groups is too often accompanied by the recurrence, and exacerbation, of unjust, threatening, and dangerous reactions.
Progress is exciting. Hope feels promising. Possibility feels energizing.
AND...
History is full of heartbreak. Progress is delicate. Change is scary.
If an emotion is taken in isolation, it creates an unnecessary vulnerability. (I'd highly recommend Inside Out and Inside Out 2 if you'd like a vivid and entertaining representation!)
It can't be all Joy all the time. (And Sadness cannot be relegated to staying within a circle on the floor!) ðĪĢ
Neither is it helpful when Anxiety takes complete control of the board. ðŽ
When understood and respected, seemingly opposing emotions complement and mingle to guide choices, actions, and decisions. ð
In combination, you have opportunities to celebrate, rejuvenate, and re-energize while also grieving, preparing, and protecting yourself (and others) for the ongoing racism, sexism, and injustices that persist.
In that space, you can sustain yourself for the work that lies ahead by appreciating the progress along the way while grieving the tremendous (and ongoing) injustices and atrocities.
Instead of a "good" or "bad" day, wouldn't it be more accurate to consider a day in the human experience to be an "every emotion day" or, at least, a "many emotion day"?
How are your emotions working together to prepare you to live in this moment and be ready for the next?
You matter. You make a difference. I'm so thankful you're here.