reclaim

Reclaim: to bring back to a right or proper course; reform

Freedom to Feel

Leigh LiebmannComment

“You have the capacity to experience true joy, yet you are equally capable of grieving deeply while holding onto hope.” – Chip Dodd

We all desire emotional stability. We scour books, seek counsel, meditate, pray, insert whatever it is you do to gain a handle on the needs of your own human heart. It can be exhausting. We often live in the spin of an array of emotions happening inside of our hearts simultaneously. At times, it can just seem like a bit too much to bear. How can we possibly tend to so many feelings at once? We’ve turned to things to divert our focus giving us temporary relief from what’s actually stirring inside of our soul.

I’m an emotional being. There you have it, I said it out loud. I’ve spent a lot of my life wishing away this part of my persona…or at least wishing my emotions weren’t quite so loud. I’ve attempted to put them aside at times. I've desired to become more of a ‘T’ than an ‘F’. I’ve certainly given it my all to hush my feelings when it comes to decisions and relationships, but I am always sorely disappointed when I'm met with opposition. For me, to completely turn off my emotions is actually an impossibility.

I simply cannot not feel.  

In recent months I’ve been learning a bit more about these emotions. I'm learning that they are in fact some of our greatest strengths, even though I’ve viewed them as a thorn in my side for quite some time.

We were given feelings to act as a thermometer to our soul and we are Hard wired to feel deeply.

5 years ago, my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. A disease that has slowly taken its toll on his physical well being and has quite frankly taken a whole lot more than that. I remember the day I was struck by the reality of his sickness. It knocked the wind out of me. I was home for a visit when I gazed across the room and saw my dad struggling to stand up from the chair he was sitting in. In that moment, I was overcome by the reality of the turning of tables, the cycle of life, whatever you want to call it. My eyes began to well up with tears as I witnessed the man who has taken care of me my entire life suddenly in need of help from his daughter to stand up from his own chair. I witnessed the frustration in his face as he struggled to do what he’s done so effortlessly for so many days. He looked up and said, ‘Leigh, can you help me?’.

My heart sank deep into my chest as I walked across the room to help him stand up. I was met by the harsh reality that this was only the beginning of what would be a long journey for him and our family. In recent years, my dad has slowly lost his ability to do simple tasks like feed himself, get out of bed on his own, get into the car on his own, open jars and some days, he’s unable to walk from the recliner to the bedroom without help…regular old daily activities, my dad can has to struggle to do on his own.

I’ve watched my mom’s role evolve from wife to caretaker. I’ve watched her struggle but, I’ve also witnessed her soar as she strives to love him well, take on his care, and navigate the difficult waters of this unchartered territory. I’ve wrestled alongside my sister as we are often overwhelmed with a deep sense of sadness for our dad and experiencing this difficult loss together.

I told a friend a few months ago over coffee that my heart was aching because I just longed to grieve.

I thought I’d put my finger on my emotional compass perfectly. If only I could be ‘all in’ the grief process and not have to juggle all of these other emotions simultaneously, this wouldn’t be so hard, right?! How can I possibly live and laugh and experience joy while at the same time experiencing this deep heartache and sadness?  That friend turned to me and said, “Leigh, you cannot block out joy without blocking out grief. Grief and joy go hand in hand" I suddenly felt breathed into. It was like I was given permission to feel what I was feeling so torn by. Later that same week I read this and was brought to tears by the weight of these words…

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. The self-same well from which your laughter rises was often times filled with your tears. The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
— Gibran, poet

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. Wait, what? Joy is actually a result of sorrow. The two not only go hand in hand, but they are actually a part of one another. You must feel the depth of pain possess the capacity to feel the height of joy. It’s like climbing a 14er or finishing a marathon. It was required of you to trudge all 14,000 ft of elevation and run all 26.2 of those miles before you were released to experience the feeling of accomplishment at the end. The struggle is actually that which made up the victory. 

We are constantly engaging in a duality of emotion. All these emotions, well, they all hinge on one another and we have actually been given the capacity to bear the weight of them all.  Some are necessary to experience simultaneously and some are simply a pre-requisite to others. Let's be honest, along with sorrow comes so many other emotions like anger, sadness, disappointment and fear. Though, we can’t sit around trying to ‘block out’ the emotions we don’t desire to feel, this will actually do more harm than good. We need them all.

We were created to embrace an emotional dance and fully feel all we've been entrusted with. This makes room for things like sorrow to be carved into our being.

The deeper we feel, the more capacity we are given to carry an even deeper sense of joy to the world.

I’m learning to listen to my heart, to create space to grieve and to give myself permission to experience joy amidst deep pain. I never imagined I’d have the capacity to feel so much all at once. Some days I have success, some days I just sit and stare out the window because I feel numb to it all. As we live amidst the tension of sadness for what is, strive to hold on to hope for a miracle, enjoy the moments we have, and ache for what’s ahead, it can often seem like simply too much to bear.

Though I don't know what tomorrow holds, what I do know is that the God of the universe is already in tomorrow and He's not letting us out of his sight. He's taken us by the hand and invited us into this dance. The more I allow my heart to engage in this movement, the more confident I feel in my complete and utter lack of ability to lead. This emotional dance is something supernatural and though we give it our best effort, we simply can't do it on our own.

Our steps have been established, our pain endured, our sorrow carved out and joy has found its home deep down inside the depths of our hearts.  

What is it that's carved out this space for you? A sudden loss, a diagnosis, a phone call which brought you to your knees? Maybe you’ve found yourself trapped in a seemingly never-ending feeling of sadness or are enduring the agony of heartbreak. Maybe you’re going through an unexpected season of job loss or journeying down the unknown path of some uncontrollable health issues. Though these circumstances are so very difficult, they are actually transforming the core of who you are.  

Frederick Buechner says it this way, “Laughter and tears come from the same place in the heart, that place deep inside...”  Today, I'm choosing to embrace the feeler that I am and let some of these emotions live together. I think they might actually need one another after all...