SINCE JOINING THE LIGHTWORKER COMMUNITY, I have been watching how we, as a group, approach emotion. It seems to be an area that fascinates us no end and about which we cherish conflicting beliefs. On the one hand, so much of what we do is about healing for ourselves and others. We strive to heal ourselves, to resolve old pain and patterns and to hold a space where others can make the same choice. So often when faced with deep, agonizing pain we run towards it rather than away. Yet, I have often heard Lightworkers talk about being frustrated with themselves or others based on what they're feeling, as if being a “good lightworker” represents an absence of darker emotions. So many of us, myself included, seem to explore 101 different ways of transcending (which translates to not having to feel) our “negative” emotions. Amidst a community that I find a source of immense support and delight, there is also a structure that lends itself to shoring up old, less than healthy ways of being.

I carry a lingering uneasiness with where my emotions are concerned. I can't remember a time as a child when I didn't know I should be something other than what I was, and that I shouldn't feel something that I did. Emotions were against the rules in my household and feeling the wrong thing had unpleasant consequences. Of course, as an Indigo child I made it clear, loudly and repeatedly, that I thought the situation sucked and that wasn't having the perfect happy family experience. If we were the perfect family, I wouldn't hurt so badly, so either Mom and Dad were lying about how great we were or there was something badly wrong with me that I should still feel all this anger, frustration, and loneliness. I've never been able to believe in dishonesty in those I love (I have trouble finding a reference for it with anyone I connect with directly.) So I concluded that the family flaw lay in me. I must be bad and wrong for feeling what I did.

I grew up, found other choices, and chose again what rules and standards I would live by. But where emotions and their surrounding belief structure are concerned I don't always choose as differently as I would prefer to think. I find the notion that I can ascend past my pain and anger and fear deeply seductive. It plays out something like this:

I can choose to create my reality and I choose not to spend time in anger, fear, and hurt. Instead, I will be in love. But then, from there, when the feelings of anger, fear, and hurt arise, not only do I feel the original feeling, I also feel like I am failing in my spiritual goals to walk through life in a state of pure love. When I start judging myself for feeling what I feel, that spills over into judging other people and things around me.

When that self-critical voice gets turned outward and starts tearing other people down, I feel deeply ashamed of myself. It makes for a rather nasty feedback loop.

I have come to realize that this dance of “should-ing” myself about my feelings is an old survival technique. At a time when I had literally no one to turn to and no one to support me, really looking at the deep, underlying pain was dangerous beyond belief. I could lose myself in that chasm and there would be no one to pull me out. But, by beating up on myself, I could shift my attention to destructive chatter first and then to distracting myself from the secondary feelings generated by the destructive chatter. It made for a nice double layer to protect myself against the truly unbearable pain.

But the belief that I could not survive the pain no longer reflects my reality. Again and again, I have cried out pieces of childhood agony, I have felt my heart break open, and I come out the other side stronger, clearer, and more at peace. Yet my habitual response of avoiding my feelings of hurt and fear at any cost still kicks in automatically unless and until I consciously disrupt it. I still keep trying to find a way to simply ascend past the feelings.

I find these patterns of mine mirrored back to me within the metaphysical community. We try to leverage the knowledge that we are spiritual beings having a physical experience to serve a purpose it can never serve. For example, I have heard the idea expressed by people who have either lost a loved one, or are dealing with someone who has lost a loved one, that it is silly and self-indulgent to mourn because we know they aren't truly gone forever. There is somehow an idea that our spiritual awareness should allow us to not experience the hurts of being human. I can say from personal experience that spirituality cannot effectively be used as a crowbar to ascend pain (i.e. make pain go way right this minute).

Indeed, engaging with things that stimulate our darker emotions is natural and has a valuable place in our experience. So often we deplore violent television shows and talk about movies or books with sex or violence as “guilty pleasures”. Likewise, we condemn or shame ourselves for fantasizing about those sorts of things. But these experiences stimulate excitement, anger, fear, sexuality and the like in a safe and contained way. They allow us to feel those emotions and have an experience that would not otherwise be part of our daily life. (I certainly attempt to confine my experiences of physically violent conflict to the realm of the imaginary.) Of course, we can choose not to engage with this sort of thing, but, to do so, is to deny a part of ourselves. It's fun, it's stimulating, and people feel very alive when engaging with something that plays on their “darker” emotions. As long as we maintain good boundaries that allow us to engage and disengage from these fantasy worlds as we need to and choose, the opportunity to spend some time visiting these realms makes for a richer life experience.

This applies to children too. It is a goal of most parents and much of society to keep children from being hurt emotionally. But if you pour a huge amount of energy into preventing emotional harm, and get lost in your own grief when you fail, there aren't a lot of resources left for helping the child learn how to deal with and recover from being hurt. Part of my terror of my emotions was seeing the most powerful person in my life, my mother, panic in the face of too many tears. Ideally, childhood should be a time to learn skills for coping well with a range of emotions. Children are far more flexible and adaptable than adults. We do them a disservice if we shield them from painful emotions until they are of an age when they've lost much of their flexibility and their range of options for response has narrowed.

For example, we deplore the fact that children are exposed to violent movies, but such movies represent a chance for a child to engage and explore a form of emotional stimulation from a safe distance. Perhaps our goal shouldn't be to prevent children from being exposed to violence, but rather, that we monitor it so that it stays in a safe context. By this I mean, nothing too violent and nothing too scary, rather than nothing even remotely violent or scary. Children would benefit so much from assistance in learning healthy responses to big, strong, painful emotions.

One of my core beliefs is that I choose to be here on earth at this time, with the parents and family I was born into. I believe I made this choice fully aware of the pain and fear, the loss and anger, and the general frustration I was letting myself in for when I elected to confine my spiritual being to a physical form. So the joke is on me, I have gone through all the trouble to incarnate with plans and contracts and gifts and goals, to have the principal experience that I couldn't have in spirit… that of feeling emotion. What do I do with this experience I have created for myself? I find myself using vast amounts of my energetic resources to avoid or deny that very experience of feeling my emotions.

I am becoming clearer and clearer that feeling emotions is a vital part of this life experience. If I spend all my time incarnate trying to achieve the oneness and detached compassion of spirit, then I'm missing the full ride. In spirit I must have longed for the sense of aliveness in feeling emotions. In life, I long for the freedom from pain and grief of spirit. I don't deny the delight, joy and rejuvenation from gathering with like-minded people and working together to hold up the veil for each other. It is a high like no other and a joyful thing. But it is not the whole of the experience we came here to have. For, doubtless, we could have simply danced together in spirit for eons. We need not have incarnated for the experience.

I intend to learn to hold myself in unconditional positive self-regard and let my emotions flow naturally. I intend to make a space where, when I feel the need to cry, I simply find a place and time to sit down and cry, much as I simply get something to eat when I'm hungry or lie down when I am tired. And I intend to disengage the mental process from the experience of feeling emotions, that I may be in my heart as it breaks open rather than in my head, trying to distance from that part of myself. And in doing so, I will gift myself with the ride of my life.

© Katie Weatherup, 2002

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Katie Weatherup was raised in the wilds of Northern California by feminist goats. She is an engineer by profession and a healer by passion.

Katie is delighted by all forms of energetic healing and works with many, including Reiki, Seichim, and Healing from the Heart. She also adores rocks and crystals and uses them liberally in her healing work. In addition, she does beadwork, specializing in necklaces and medicine bags with semi-precious stones.

Katie also sings in a Celtic Folk band called The Wild Oats (www.thewildoats.com). Katie’s website can be viewed at www.handsoverheart.com or you can reach her via email addressed to Katie@handsoverheart.com.