Sad ain't necessarily bad

Hello you powerful donkey punch.

This has been a difficult week, and there have been mountains of sadness to wrap our collective heads around-- from the tragic Ethiopian Airways crash to the unfathomably violent New Zealand terrorist attack. Like many around the world, these events have left me feeling truly heartsick (particularly the senselessness of the mosque shooting), and I am finding it a little difficult to shake the feeling of sadness for the world right now.  But maybe I don't want to shake the sadness quite yet.

There is so much pain associated with these tragedies, and in typical activist-y form, I often want to blast past sadness and plunge into the anger I am feeling--- there is an energy (and a false sense of power and control) that comes with feeling angry. And I often use that energy to try to 'fix' the issue or resolve the underlying pain in some way. 

But right now, I feel like I just want to sit with the tragedy of the current situation. I feel that in doing so, I might be able to better understand and absorb our collective sorrow in this moment, with the hope that it can help me better contribute to our collective desire for better. So this week, I am thinking about how to sit with sadness, and trying to better understand the reasons why letting ourselves feel bad is important to feeling better.  

Let's be honest: I am a pretty glass-half-full kind of person (much to my father's abiding, mild-to-moderate annoyance), so sitting patiently and generously with my sadness is not something with which I feel well acquainted.  To get better acquainted, I appreciated this article outlining the basics of how to be sad (including tips for weathering sad days), as well as this short video about the many ways we avoid feeling sad (including that shatteringly joyful facade we put on when pretending nothing is wrong-- often manifested as toxic positivity), and how this can actually do more harm than good when it comes to coming out the other side of sadness.

I can admit that I have definitely been guilty of glossing over pain and sadness, so I like this infographic below (thanks to Janice for sending it along!) which provides examples of a healthier framing that you can use with yourself in moments of sadness, or when interacting with others who are having a difficult time. 

Having said all of this, I must also honor my glass-half-full self and share a couple of articles about the benefits of a blue period, and the upside of sadness.  A favourite insight from the latter article: "When we let go of needing an uncomfortable feeling to go away, we find we can meet it more fully and listen when it says, “this matters to me.” This is far from wallowing, ruminating, or generally getting lost in our sadness, taking it personally and making it our own monumental project or cross to bear. It’s honoring our unique journey through life: the loves and losses, the hopes and disappointments equally. And really, would we want anything else? In sadness, we can learn to simply appreciate the presence of this little bout of suffering as a reflection of our wholeness and our humanness."
 

So, for a little while anyway, I am going to try to sit with my sadness for the world, and I hope this dispatch might be useful if you find yourself in a similar state. Instead of railing against the machine, I am experimenting with taking a brief pause to feel whatever I feel, and trying to appreciate the full spectrum of being a human being with a complex emotional life. It does not always come naturally to lean into the hard stuff, but right now it feels appropriate.

Not feeling sad right now? That's okay! In honor of St. Patrick's Day, please listen to this hilariously mournful Muppet version of the Irish classic "Oh Danny Boy". It is on my top ten list of best Muppet moments of all time.

From one sometimes-sad person to another, I am glad that we can hold space for each other to experience the rich tapestry of emotions that make up a human life. I hope you enjoyed this dispatch, and have a feeling-filled week!

Until next Sunday,
The Earnest Platypus