Searching for the “hope” in hopelessness

Some self-care tools of mine: My computer so I can write and a decadent cup of hot cocoa

I am not in a good space.

It doesn’t happen often, as most people that know me well might tell you, I tend to be one of those “half glass full” people.

Well, for the past several days, my glass is empty.

This morning, during my meditation, I found myself feeling into “the core” of my feelings. I often suggest this to my coaching clients as a way to “complete” uncomfortable feelings so we can feel them fully, allowing them to dissipate eventually.

I call this technique Feeling Into the Core. I’ve often used it to let go of emotions that cloud my ability to take positive action or find a calmer space in situations that are often beyond my control.

“The only way out is through.” — Robert Frost

The premise is that it is unhealthy to push aside (or down) those negative emotions for they can fester, grow, and cause physical and emotional health issues. It is best to give them space — to “complete” the feelings so we can move beyond them. It has been proven that suppressing “big emotions” like anger can result in physical illnesses, such as heart disease, high blood pressure, headaches, digestion issues, etc.

So, this morning, I tried to use this technique, and I was able to do it. Yet, as I focused on these feelings, I touched this bottomless dark pit inside me. I worked hard to stay there and go deeper inside the center—the core of it—just as the instructions suggested. I allowed myself to feel despair and, dare I type it, hopelessness. I also felt anger—bordering on rage.

My mind interrupted, yelling, “ Stop -- this is not you, Laurie.” Yet, I took another breath, acknowledged my fear, and continued.

It became hard to stay with those feelings. As I tried to continue to meditate and focus on the core of these deep feelings, I began to cry.

I stayed in it.

I allowed tears to fall and trickle down my neck and pool on my T-shirt, causing wet spots. It was then that I knew I could go no further. I gently stopped the process, backing out of that deep feeling and back into my whole body. I took several deep breaths, and my sobbing began to soften and slow down, eventually stopping.

This is not me.

Yet it is.

As I try to navigate my current state using my mindfulness tools, including acceptance at what is, offering myself self-compassion and kindness, and practicing other mindful tools, I know I can get through this. I see the way is to be with it - allow it - and I will eventually get through it.

But for now. I am in the thick of hopelessness. I am searching for a way to find the hope in hopelessness.

It isn’t working as well as I’d like. But I will get there.

After my meditation, I lay on my bed and sobbed. Then, I called a friend because I knew it was important to reach out and ask for support. This is not easy for me. I like to be the one that friends call when they need support, but I don’t often allow myself the luxury of asking for help. It felt good to do this, and I didn’t feel so alone.

Luckily, my friend answered, and it did help. When the conversation started to reel, with both of us reciting the reasons for our anger and listing the injustices we felt, I knew this would feed my emotional fire. So, I was smart enough to politely end the conversation, thanking my friend for listening.

“When we are in despair, reaching out is not a sign of weakness but a courageous act of self-love.” — Inspired by Pema Chödrön

So, I did a bit of self-care, including making myself a decadent cup of dairy-free bittersweet hot cocoa, and here I sit, at my computer, with my words helping me cope.

Words. They comfort me. Help me sort out my feelings. Allow me to express them in a way that others can be in them with me. With you here reading them, I am not alone. (Thanks, by the way, for being here with and for me!)

Feeling our feelings can be as uncomfortable as I am describing — especially when that emotion turns to anger. The tension may seem like too much to handle. We don’t want to deal with the discomfort, or we may worry about what we might discover on the other side.

Yet to choose not to move through it and face it we risk staying in it - spiraling to a place that just isn’t healthy.

While it isn’t fun (I would not even remotely categorize my past few days and sleepless nights as anything close to “fun”), yet, I know that what we resist persists – so I knew moving thorugh this with as much grace as I could muster was the way forward.

I know – and teach my clients - that fully experiencing our emotions allows us to be open to receiving the critical information those feelings are trying to give us. Once we have this clarity, we can make positive changes in our state of mind and possibly in our lives.

Experiencing anger and even rage can be positive. Stay with me on this.

We can turn anger into motivation. It can help us self-advocate and make positive changes. It can motivate us to move toward self-compassion and self-improvement and inspire us to act against injustice.

This is where, I believe, we find the hope in hopelessness.

“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” — Desmond Tutu

Let’s hope Desmond Tutu and I are right.

Ed Note: I will share some of the mindfulness tools that may help in another upcoming post if that might be helpful for you too. Stay tuned for this.