This subject is bang on my radar right now because I’m preparing a teaching on mental and emotional health. As I do so I am forced to look at the way in which our culture of ‘no feelings please we’re British’, contributes to our current mental and emotional health crisis. And on a recent trip to the west coast, I was reminded of how this can play out in my own life.
As part of my ongoing commitment to take good care of myself, at the start of this year, I made a commitment to take regular jaunts to the coast. Whether for twenty four hours or a few days, there is something about being by the sea that simply feeds my soul; the sight, the smell, the sound, the space. It stimulates my senses and brings me back to myself.
So this year, I’ve visited parts of the south, the east and now the west coast. I’ve ridden a horse on the beach, seen a seal whilst running on the beach at sun rise, I’ve swum in a wet suit and I’ve soaked up everything that comes with being by the sea. Including fish and chips and cream teas. Obviously. These times are utterly sacred gifts which I look forward to with gusto.
However, just before this latest coastal adventure, something that is happening with a significant person in my life, left me full of sadness. Subsequently my usual sense of anticipation for such a trip went AWOL. Even my first glimpse of the sea failed to elicit my usual gasp of excitement. And when I saw the masses of people in the seafront cafes, I turned and briskly walked away in search of somewhere quieter. I didn’t have the heart to put on a socially acceptable smiley face.
As the trip went on and I walked, sat and ate by the sea, I felt disgruntled by the ongoing presence of my sadness. Clearly it had not got the email that I was on holiday or read ‘the rules’ that state that sadness is not permitted during such times. Quite frankly I wanted it to do one. And I certainly didn’t want to interact with other humans that might need or expect me not to feel as I did.
But then, as I walked amidst the beauty and wonder of God’s stunning creation, something happened. I realised that it was actually me that wanted me to feel something other than what I was. I was on holiday so I thought I should feel happy.
I had unwittingly fallen in to the trap of believing the lies of our time. In this case, the lie that we should be able to simply choose what we are going to feel at any given moment, as if being on holiday should automatically elicit a response of joy, irrespective of whatever else is going on within our life.
I immediately reminded myself of that which I all too easily forget ie that if this was true I would be nothing more than a cold, hard, (British) robot, as opposed to an ordinary human being who has feelings of great sadness about the struggles faced by those I love. Instead of viewing my sadness as something to stiff upper lip away, I remembered that it was an expression of my own aliveness and capacity to care and feel.
At this point, I stopped battering myself for not striking up conversations with randoms like I usually would or for failing to bubble over with the type of joy that usually springs forth in response to the sight of the sea. Instead, I simply gave myself permission to feel my sadness. I gave it the respect it was due.
Paradoxically, no sooner had I done so when my usual sense of freedom and enjoyment began to trickle back through the gap that had previously been blocked by my staunchly British refusal to accept anything other than twenty four seven positivity.
I was reminded yet again that what we refuse to acknowledge always gets in the way of that which we desire to experience.
If you haven’t seen the film Inside Out, I would at this point totally recommend it as it offers an excellent illustration of this exact reality.
Anyway, I did enjoy the rest of my trip but it served as an excellent if painful reminder that when I feel sad, I need to acknowledge the validity of this by taking extra care of myself. What I don’t need is to attempt to will away my own humanity through sheer grit and determination.
No matter how well I think I know this stuff, with a culture that constantly feeds us the idea that we can simply pick and choose our thoughts and feelings to match the occasion, I still need constant reminders. This trip was one!
Our British culture has a lot to answer for!
So in summary, the time is long overdue for us to individually and collectively break free from these cultural chains that bind us to unrealistic, unsustainable ways of living, as if we are robots. I understand that there is much in the way of pioneering around robots at this time but let us not lose sight of what it is that makes us human, for the soul is something that cannot be duplicated or programmed on demand. It is unique, alive, precious, and worthy of being listened to, nourished and loved during its many states, both wanted and unwanted.
Soul matters …
