Emotions are muddy waters, no? Pain, hurt, lust, love, and even joy. The other day, I woke up in one of those moods: the one which makes one feel as though the world is conquerable. Where possibilities shine in every nook and beauty is in every cranny. By evening I was exhausted and crashed. It is not coffee, I don’t drink it. I had been overwhelmed by the uncommon intensity of feelings.
Knowing beauty is knowing ugliness and feelings of being in possession of great capabilities, such as ones that make us imagine the world conquerable, is knowing that there are days when breathing is painful enough. Begging the question, why must anything be conquered, taken with force, overcome? Why can’t things be good enough so there exists no wish to change a thing? Why must there be opposites? Why must good be the wonderful side of bad? Why can’t there be only good without a negative other. It seems that in a state of perfect uniformity, neutrality is the natural state of things and thus no opposites. In such a state one may feel joy every second of one’s life without being overwhelmed. Supposing the feeling is the natural emotion of the state. Even then, there could not exist varieties of such joy. It must remain invariable.
This past Saturday afternoon found me in DUMBO. I went out for a bit and danced until my neck felt sore. Suddenly this little joint between head and shoulder stood apart from the rest of the body and demanded pampering to hush back into what usually feels like a seamless continuity with the rest of the body. My poor neck had suffered the joyous head thrashings and neck whippings in what I called wonderful dancing. Though it knew how to participate, it was not used to so much excitement in one afternoon. So the aches came. Let’s call them the negatives. If our necks were not guided by certain rules we could swing them as much as we desired and there would be no consequence. But our world is a diverse one and there’re always variances.
Hence feelings are impressive even when overwhelming. What if one therefore learns how tune into one’s emotions properly? What if we acquire the competence to observe our feelings as if they were another’s? What if we learn to laugh at ourselves when we feel silly and want to hide but still know to acknowledge the feeling of wanting to hide as something intriguing? What if we cultivate our sensibilities not as a nuisance but fascinating in their nuances. If we do, we learn to admire and respect them as internal shifting clouds that are at once true and false. Thus the desire to hide might issue from embarrassment and the instinct to avoid feeling uncomfortable. But what if we allowed ourselves to accept our uncomfortable feelings as worthwhile? Emotions one need not escape. They are fleeting like all things, no? Hence, why should one not dare to operate from a state of embarrassment without giving in to shame, or courage in a state of fear?
Like muddy waters, time settles the mud leaving the water clear. I am not saying that we should ignore our feelings. What we feel must be respected, even when we have to resist it. Like when I hurt because it’s been a few minutes since I texted a dear friend and they are yet to respond to me. I allow myself all those feelings of uncared for, unloved, and such and such, because I think it is beautiful to feel, though not joyous things to feel. It is somewhat amusing when I know my emotions are actually trying to rationalize my situation. What they are doing is imagining causes. Hence I can allow them to amuse me rather than reduce me into a state of anxiety. Thus acknowledge them without being led by them.
I propose cultivating the ability to pay quality attention to our sentiments, and even in dismissing them, to not do so harshly but affectionately, like with a wayward child. That we are sentient is incredible especially as it is incomprehensible even though there is a
logic to it. To observe reason battle emotions and lose. To feel something to be true and yet doubt it. To wish to not care, and and be overwhelmed by concern. How enchanting when we are not impatient with our emotions. No matter how strongly I desire it, I can’t order myself to feel as I wish, immediately. I can make myself do what I don’t want to do, but I cannot make myself feel immediately as I want. If I succeed in deluding myself, eventually, truth sticks its tongue out at me.
And what of giving into seemingly unwise desires because we feel propelled to do so? There was this man I really liked. Just the sight of him broke my face into a big happy smile and put twinkles into my eyes. He did not return my affection. Yet I felt there was something in the way he looked at me, and the wonderful feeling of the possibility of my theory being true generated such pleasure that I gave myself a whole year to make a complete fool of myself over him. And what a happy fool I was. At the end of the year, he still did not return my affection and though I did not arrive at hating or disliking him, I was so tired of my overwhelming infatuation that I strongly desired to be free of it. I was still attracted to him, but my pride had had it, and my time limit having expired it was not too difficult to start working on forgetting my affections.
Certain people with better self-control are able to control their feelings in shorter periods of time. I do not have that good of a self-control, and there are certain emotions I enjoy entertaining, even if embarrassing and at times hurtful. I am
proud of myself for allowing myself this liberty. For not letting
my pride to always have its way. Back to the example of wanting to hide, say I should run into this man in the future and find myself feeling a strong desire to keep out of sight, I will understand my instincts to be looking out for me. I can also excuse my feelings as probably emerging from wounded pride and also as a sense of self-preservation. The pride I ignored when I allowed myself to attempt to convince someone to want me when
I knew if it were possible for them to feel as such, they would not need a whole year of convincing (logic vs feelings) is wounded and hopes to “save face.” But I do not lie to myself. I know I was in it because it pleased me and I had not the strength (nor did I want the strength) to not entertain my feelings.
Allowing myself to exercise these emotions taught me things that I would not have learned from giving into pride. It made me more sympathetic to similar behaviors from others. Behaviors that I once found appalling due to lack of experience.
As I write this, I am in a state of poor health. My first time being sick this year. . . I think. But I don’t mind it. Unless what ails me is serious, I like to give my body a chance to fight its sicknesses and I aide it with wonderful rest, great pepper soups, spicy teas, and as much pampering as I can stand to lavish onto myself. To some, it makes sense when I say I am enjoying being sick. Which doesn’t mean that I love the feelings of weakness and discomfort. What I mean is that I have faith that I will be better soon enough. But for the moment, being sick is an interesting situation that I can appreciate. It has a novelty that is pleasing to humor. It is a reminder that I ought to treat myself kindly, and give my body quality care. My body not being a robot has its needs which ought to be respected. To respect my feelings is to respect myself. To allow my feelings room enough to take turns is to give them quality attention. They are worthy of my time for they are states in me. And if I cannot make time for my own moods, what or who can I make time for? Yet to know this requires learning to step outside oneself. Experiencing the self as though it is a separate being.
It annoys me when people demand that I be “happy!” Don’t get me wrong, I love to be wished to be happy. But when others would not let us be unhappy because they deem it unnatural, is unhealthy. It comes from a place of ignorance and it is frustrating. Oftentimes when others ask that we smile, or that we look cheerful it is because they themselves don’t know how to allow themselves to entertain any emotion which is not joy. Hence, in their opinion, it is unnatural or unacceptable to be sad, or angry; they tell us what they say to themselves in similar states. This is annoying because we are allowed to cultivate our feelings without so much fear. Without the notion that what is true to our nature is unnatural. I do not believe that one can exist, in time as we know it, in an unbroken perpetual state of joy. And this is why a day of incredible excitement ends up overwhelming one.
Although I believe myself a happy person in general, I also enjoy states of melancholia, feverish fear, consuming anger, intense lust, and sometimes crippling sadness and anxiety. And there is beauty in the ability to feel these moods. The deeper I learn to feel differing emotions, as though they were passing clouds, the more I learn to understand and appreciate them. In this way I also learn more of myself: who I am when angry; who I am when sad, etc. Interestingly, the happier I feel for exercising my sentiments. I become less afraid of embarrassment, fear, anger and all the emotions we are taught to shun. It is as though my knowledge of them render them less frightening. Making them captivating and somewhat manageable. I become a better host, even to my least favorite emotions.
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Jane Odartey
