I woke crying, at 3:00 am. Not loud frightened sobbing, as from a nightmare, just fat wet tears rolling hot and plentifully down my cheeks. My thoughts were empty, my emotions breaking against the stony silence as I considered them. A year ago, a wake up call like that one would have doomed the day, without question. I’d have fought myself for hours, before turning my emotional weapons of mass destruction on any hapless lover who wandered past with a good morning on their lips.
This morning it felt very natural to reach for new tools as I might reach for a tissue, calmly, practically, and without second guessing their utility. A few good deep breaths, a couple of yoga postures I know calm me pretty easily. I ‘made room’ for my emotions; understanding they are part of my experience, I experienced them. When anger and resentment began to surge from beneath the sad tears, I made room for them, too. Without delivering the additional blow to my heart of harsh self-criticism, or icy refusal to be compassionate toward myself, my strong emotions didn’t linger. As they began to dissipate, a clearer sense of discontent developed. I observed my wiley – and highly skilled – brain attempt to position the feelings as being somehow indicative of something more significant than the moment. It felt okay to say to myself “well, maybe, but it’s 4:00 am, and I’m barely awake – why would I act on a feeling like that now?”
In the night I had somehow managed to travel from calm optimism about today, to a sense of resentment, anger, disappointment, foreboding… and as I observed each emotion develop, break against the calm shore of my observation, and fade, I became aware that some of the emotions didn’t seem the slightest bit connected to any ‘real’ factual experience or circumstance at all, while others did. I was feeling feelings – and feeling feelings about the feelings I was feeling, as well as feeling feelings about feeling feelings about the feelings I was feeling. I almost laughed out loud in the shower. The moment of bewilderment and humor gave me a precious gift – perspective.
A brief good morning in passing with a dear one was a needed moment of connection with a consciousness not my own. “You’re up early.” “Yeah, since 3. Just woke up, couldn’t go back to sleep.” It was enough. “I’ve had a restless night, too.” He sympathized. A human moment. A connection. A shared experience. He went back to bed. I put on earrings. As I looked at my reflection in the mirror I recognized more than my own face – I recognized that for whatever reason, I had awakened feeling lonely. Even that simple shared moment in passing was enough to restore my feeling of connection. I made a coffee, took time to meditate from a more wholesome place, and sitting down to write the morning finds me calm. (No, at 3:00 am I did not know this would be the outcome.)
It’s relevant to what I observed last night about my experience. Changes. I am in less of a state of emotional disarray, generally speaking. I guess that makes 2013 a huge ‘life success’. Funny to wake up in tears and in less than 3 hours be feeling not just calm, but actually pleased to be where I am with myself. lol. What a nice place to be.
Looking forward to the dawn.
Evening Light 