Most of us have experienced being on the edge of joy only to be overcome by vulnerability and thrown into fear. Until we can tolerate vulnerability and transform it into gratitude, intense feelings of love will often bring up the fear of loss. If I had to sum up what I’ve learned about fear and joy, this is what I would say:
“The dark does not destroy the light; it defines it. It’s our fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows.”
This is from Brené Brown’s book, The Gifts Of Imperfection. Having read it through recently I keep finding myself drawn back; life events or recurring struggles crop up and I think “what was it she said about…” and flicking through the pages again. It doesn’t give quick fixes or simple answers, but it does help explain why someone might react in a certain way, and is helping me to understand many of my own fears. It teaches that by numbing ourselves to things we don’t want to feel, we also numb ourselves to the good things in life. These numbing behaviours are things like comfort-eating, smoking, drinking etc. but also more subtle, such as managing expectations.
The passage I was thinking about today (but failed to find) mentions some research the author had done into hope and disappointment, and found that “Wholehearted” people are less likely to lower their expectations, and when disappointment happens, they still handle it better. By living more optimistically, their general level of happiness is higher; anticipation unbridled by fear of disappointment is undiminished and more enjoyable, and being disappointed is really only as painful as it would otherwise be, not more.
I want to be more like this. I want to be more hopeful, and I want to numb less.
About a year ago I stopped using alcohol to reduce the things I was feeling, and I feel my life has improved significantly since then. It’s left me with a slightly tricky attitude towards drinking. Since I’m not an alcoholic or tee-total, there have been a couple of times recently when I’ve not been able to refuse to drink in social settings, even though I wanted to. It’s very difficult to explain. I don’t think drinking alcohol is wrong, and it isn’t a problem for me, but I don’t really like it any more. Yet rather than be honest about that, I was afraid of being seen to be strange, or weak, even though the truly strong thing to do would be to say no.
I still have many lessons to learn. But since I bought this book a few weeks ago, I’ve found so much rings true, and by understanding why I feel the way I do, I may be able to change how I react.
Soon I will dare to hope.
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