Having it all.
Ever since leaving my position as CEO of Ello I've had a lot of feelings come up.
Some of those feelings are one...
Having it all.
Ever since leaving my position as CEO of Ello I've had a lot of feelings come up.
Some of those feelings are ones I'm excited about (I have time to write again! I can invent new things!) but others, like heartbreak, are more difficult, and not ones that I'd choose if I could get away with avoiding them.
I admit that for me, sadness has always been a struggle. I grew up in an environment where everything, even death and surgery, was always going to be OK. Learning to tolerate heartbreak was something I had to teach myself, and getting there required a lot of experimentation. I was definitely an asshole sometimes along the way.
Most of the feelings that we struggle with are results of the way we were raised. A child naturally experiences an enormous spectrum of feelings — mad, glad, sad, scared, nervous, heartbroken, inspired. As adults we may have a problem with one, or some, of these feelings, and we project that on our children.
When we don't let a child be all of who they are — when we give them a cookie when they're sad ("Come on, cheer up!") or shame them when they're having fun ("A five-year old shouldn't act like that.") — we force them into an impossible situation. They have to choose between what's real, and our love. They always choose love, and the result is that they cut off a part of themselves, and tell themselves that the way that they are is not OK.
Carrying those wounds into adulthood we find ourselves unable deal with certain situations. Conflict aversion, for example, is triggered when we just can't handle the fact that someone we deeply care about is really, really pissed at us — and may not get over it. The experience is just too overwhelming. If we can't con them into loving us again exactly the same way as they did before, we have to shut down, or cut them off completely. The alternative (staying in relationship and facing that anger) is almost unthinkable.
But anger, as well as joy, inspiration, sadness, and terror, is real. We experience all these feelings, whether want to or not, and whether we even realize it or not.
This came home to me a few years ago when a friend I hadn't seen in a decade died. I told myself I didn't feel anything, and then found myself breaking into uncontrolled sobbing fits weeks and months afterwards. I cried listening to the radio in the car, I cried at business meetings, I cried at dinner with friends and at the most awkward times.
Denying such huge parts of ourselves turns us into robots — endlessly caught in the same broken loops, disconnected from ourselves, unhappy, relentlessly discontent, and painfully unaware about what, exactly, is the problem.