I recently experienced a significant disappointment. It didn't come as a surprise but it wasn't really what I wanted, either. Since that experience, I've paid careful attention to my emotions and have been surprised at how gentle they've been. I feel fine. I'm not sure that I ought to feel fine, though, and I've been wondering if there's something wrong with me and my emotions.
I'm sure it will come as no surprise to my friends that I took a while to question what the ideal of emotional experience is, what my current experience with it is, what difference exists between them, and what I can do to close the gap. I had an interesting thought yesterday: what price would I pay to experience more emotion?
This question probably deserves some background. As I've discussed previously, I decided long ago that anger would not be a part of my life. Since then, I've chosen to avoid acting on feelings of anger and have learned to process those feelings. I've learned to give others the benefit of the doubt and to be patient. Years later, I sometimes experience frustration and occasionally indignation but anger really isn't a part of my life. When I do experience a feeling like anger, I'm able to arrest its development, remove myself from the situation, and deal with it on my own without expressing it at anyone else. I've cultivated this control carefully over the years. I've considered it to be a part of the ideal that I call emotional maturity for some time. My conception of this ideal, in summary, has been that a person ought to use reason and emotion together to make decisions without allowing either one to dominate the other. Anger should be avoided because it's specifically condemned in the Sermon on the Mount and because it is so strong that it overrides reason.
Yesterday, I questioned that ideal. Specifically, I asked myself if I would be willing to sacrifice the control I've cultivated for more than half of my life if it meant deeper emotional experience.
I thought about it and discussed it with some close, trusted friends. I concluded two things: if there were something wrong with me emotionally because I've been controlling myself too tightly and if it were possible to remedy the situation by letting go, I ought to do so. My experience has been that when I've gravitated to one extreme, I have to release the fear of the other extreme in order to progress towards a proper balance between them. I also decided that I don't think there's anything wrong with my emotional state. I'm not hiding from my emotions and I'm not suppressing them; I just don't happen to have a strong emotional response to some things and that has surprised me but simply is the way it is.
This morning, I was flipping through Preach My Gospel as part of my daily scriptural study. I came across the section about hope in chapter 6. As I read, a strong feeling of peace came over me. I realized that I have learned hope. I live it. I believe that good things are coming. I believe that, no matter what happens, my life can be happy – and that other lives can be happy, too. I realized that when, as the saying goes, the Lord shuts a door, I don't stand there and look at it as darkness closes around me; I simply locate the best open door I can find and move towards it. I was grateful to be reminded that I can, in fact, feel emotion and more grateful for the divine approbation that this communication implied.
Now, dear readers, please excuse me. I have worlds to conquer.
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