Big emotions during family game night

I am embarrassed to say that last night during family game night I became unreasonably annoyed at how the games were going for me, and I decided I needed to take myself out of the last game (and out of the room) in order to preserve my peace and in order not to be tempted to say or do things that would be hurtful to my family. I think this was the right move, even though I felt pretty horrible because that is not the person I want to be...and not the person I usually am. I don't want to be a quitter. I don't want to give that kind of example to my kids of how to handle uncomfortable/unpleasant situations. I don't want to sacrifice my peace FOR A GAME. It felt like a truly ugly version of me that I wish didn't exist. I am pursuing peace like its my full time job, but, alas, I am a human, and no matter how much work I've done on myself, there are still triggers that can make the process feel like one step forward, two steps back. 

After beating myself up for a while, I decided to dig deeper and see what was actually going on. It didn't seem fathomable that I would be that upset over games of chance that I have played without incident thousands of times. And that's when I began to realize that there are some things going in my life that truly do have a significant emotional impact that I have been feeling like I need to push aside, that I need to become (or give the impression of becoming) indifferent about since there doesn't seem to be a clear resolution for them. I feel like my expression of those emotions needs to be stifled for a variety of reasons. Earlier in the evening, my sweet husband had asked me if I was doing okay with regard to something that he knew was having a big emotional impact on me, and I even said to him, "I'm just trying to ignore that."

But here's the deal about things that have a big emotional impact: they don't go away just because we don't want to face them. The emotions will find their outlet. Maybe while you sit in traffic. Maybe in the slow checkout line at the grocery store. Or maybe on family game night. And then the outsized reaction will seem ridiculous (but maybe safer to express). But those reactions are begging us to take a closer look and see what's really going on. For me, the breaking point was playing games where I was doing everything right and trying to move forward only to have the game itself and the other players block my progress. And that happens in life as well. I have often felt like I'm doing all the "right" things and still not being able to make the progress I want to make, still not being able to "win." And the way the games made me feel tapped in to how life makes me feel sometimes. It can feel so unfair and demotivating. It can feel like there are too many things I can't control, even though I am truly doing the best I can. It can feel like there is no way to win. 

My big emotions weren't really tied to the games at all. They were related to other things going on in my life and they came out in the games because I haven't been giving them proper expression elsewhere. Instead of trying to see them and understand them and heal them, I've just been trying to ignore them, trying to wish them away, and trying to convince myself that I'm okay when I really am not. Anger is a guide. It shows us what really matters to us. Our work is to figure out what the anger is telling us and to find the proper way to approach the other big emotions it is escorting. I'm thankful my family had grace for me last night. And I'm thankful family game night has given me a new level of motivation to sit with and try to resolve the underlying issues. 

If you are also experiencing seemingly unreasonable instances of anger and frustration in the "small" areas of your life,  I encourage you to ask yourself what is really behind it and then do the work to address the underlying issue, even if it is something you would rather ignore. The emotions won't be silenced. They will just find different outlets for expression.

Mind the Gap

If you've ever ridden the tube (subway) in London, you have certainly seen and heard the cautionary message, "Mind the gap," which is meant to make passengers aware of the gap between the platform and the train. It's not a large space and can easily be stepped over, but the reminders exist because people riding the tube tend to be distracted and, if they aren't paying attention, the gap is just large enough to cause injury or loss of valuables. 

Another kind of gap exists in the realm of emotional reaction. Viktor Frankl--a famous neurologist, psychiatrist, philosopher, author, and Holocaust survivor--declared, "Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response." I have written recently about indifference and mentioned there the struggle I've had in the past to control my emotional responses. It is easy to let big emotions take over our brains, and to go through life reacting to every little piece of stimulus without checking ourselves. But that's a dangerous place to live. Like the distracted tube passenger, it can really get us in trouble. If we're not diligent to check in with and control our responses, we can cause serious damage to ourselves and others, and we can lose things and people that are truly important to us. But if we're careful to "mind the gap," we can safely and happily move ourselves from where we are to where we really want to be. There is so much power in that space between stimulus and response, and I want to make sure I'm being mindful of the choice I have to control the things/person I can control instead of ceding my power over to things and people I can't control. I cannot control all the things that happen, but in that sacred space, I can control my response to the things happening around me. I have the ability to make that gap as large as I need to make it to ensure I show up in the world the way I truly want to and move forward in ways that are good for me and for others. So, just in case you're going through life like a distracted tube passenger, consider this your reminder to "Mind the gap."  Trust me, it's advice that can create a happier journey for you.

It isn't love; it isn't hate; it's just indifference

I am a very emotional being. I have big feelings on both the positive and negative sides of the spectrum. I have a tendency to "feel" things that aren't even really feelings. And, as a bonus, I'm an empath, so I also feel the feelings of everyone else as well. For much of my life, I didn't even attempt to control my feelings (or emotional outbursts in certain private situations) because I thought that was just how I was meant to show up in the world--moved, for better or worse, by everything that happened. But in the last couple of years, I have made a practice of studying Stoic philosophy, and have been learning that it is often preferable--possibly even magical--to take a position of indifference. 

One of my favorite Stoic philosophers, Marcus Aurelius, had a lot to say about cultivating an attitude of indifference. Interestingly, most of the things he had to say about it were written in his private journal, which later became a book called Meditations. They were admonitions and reminders to himself about how he wanted to show up in the world, regardless of what his nature might be, which I suspect, based on his writings, might have had a similar emotional bent to mine. His goal was to improve himself as a person, to fight with every breath to combat the baser parts of his innate tendencies, and to become master of his emotions. A quote of his that has been meaningful and empowering to me is this: "You always own the option of having no opinion. There is never any need to get worked up or to trouble your soul about things you can't control. These things are not asking to be judged by you. Leave them alone." In other words: "You have a choice. You don't have to be moved by everything that happens. You have permission to be indifferent." 

Have you ever been betrayed or hurt by someone you cared about deeply? If so, you understand that deep feelings don't just change overnight or because you will them to or even because another person hurts you. So what do you do with all those emotions? Where do they go? Very often, feelings of love or affection quickly turn to hate because loving a person who hurt you feels like it it no longer acceptable. I heard somewhere that the opposite of love is not hate but indifference and that you know you are healing when you start to feel indifference instead of hatred. Love and hate are actually just two ends of the same big emotion, but the opposite of either of them is indifference. This is a somewhat easy concept to understand academically, but for people who feel all the things, it's hard not to get worked up and let hate fester when love doesn't feel like an option. But hate is a heavy burden to carry. And my continued study of Stoic philosophy keeps reminding me that indifference is always an option, and usually a better one. You don't have to love the person who hurt you. But neither do you need to hate them. You own the option of having no opinion, which is where your power lies.

I have similar goals for my emotional life that I imagine Marcus Aurelius had. I want to grow as a person, and I want to combat my baser tendencies. I want to control my emotions and not let them control me. It is very hard work, but good and necessary. I have to consciously capture my thoughts and ask, "Do I need to have an opinion about this? Will it change anything, other than my peace of mind, if I get worked up over it?" I have to constantly remind myself that indifference is a valid option. It doesn't mean that I don't care at all. It means I choose the things to care about, and that I can even care about them deeply. I just don't have to get worked up over things I have no control over. And in that, there is peace and there is power.

I have a sort if silly example of embracing indifference. It was when my oldest son, a natural born debater, hit the logic stage of development--a stage that insists on questioning authority and arguing about anything and everything. At some point, I grew weary of the constant battles and debates over literally everything, and I decided that I simply wouldn't express an opinion and I wouldn't engage. Instead, I would only answer with, "Ok, cool, " neither agreeing nor disagreeing. It drove my son crazy because what he really wanted was to get a rise out of me or best me with his stellar arguments. And when he didn't, the "game" was no longer fun. I chose to have no opinion and to not get worked up about any of it, which created a bit more peace in our household. Being indifferent to all of the little debates did not make me indifferent to my son. I still loved him deeply, but I owned the option of having no opinion in certain situations.

So many situations are not asking to be judged by me, and I can simply leave them alone. I think our culture promotes attitudes of outrage, and people seem to be ready to get worked up over even the smallest things, especially on social media outlets where they feel they have a bit anonymity. But all this getting worked up isn't necessary, and it isn't healthy. Most things are not asking to be judged by us and we can simply leave them alone. This doesn't mean we become heartless, which is sometimes what people think Stoic philosophy is about. I can still shed a few tears with the woman in the drive-thru who just came from a doctor's appointment where she received a diagnosis of cancer. I can still hold my sobbing child who doesn't even know why he's sobbing. I can check in with a friend who is having a rough time and offer listening ears to anyone who needs them. I can care deeply. But I also own the option of having no opinion, of being indifferent. And I can tell you from personal experience, there is something magical about indifference, especially if you are a very feely person. It takes training, and it's not easy, but if you can get to that point, it is very freeing.