By Andrea Hunsaker
They called it a 500 year flood. Late in the Spring of 2020, on top of the COVID crisis, torrential rains and the failure of two dams sent a surge of cold, brown destruction into the city of Midland, Michigan. Ten thousand residents were forced to evacuate their homes, some in boats, as the flood swallowed cars, demolished bridges, and swept away entire houses. One of those residents was Barb. I met her in the aftermath after the waters had receded as she was slogging through her damaged family home picking up muddied framed pictures and clutching a stack of soggy albums. She wasn’t expecting us, so she was deeply grateful when a group of volunteers showed up from neighboring cities to help with the cleanup. There was a waist high wet mark along the wall and everything under it had to be thrown out. Even the refrigerator was ruined—it had floated around the kitchen when the water was up to the silverware drawer and was now tipped over against the counter. I lost count of the truckloads of Barb’s things we hauled away from the house. “It’s just stuff,” Barb told me, “...but it’s not just stuff.” Even after the house was empty of furniture, it wasn’t over. The once light colored, now brown carpet had to be taken up, and the wet drywall knocked out. When we were done, it was a skeleton of the place it was only days before.
Source: Red Cross
Throughout the day, I watched Barb as she dealt with it all—the discovery of a drawer of her childrens’ drawings floating in latte-colored water, the revelation that the walls had to be torn out, the appraiser breaking the news that the house was not worth restoring. She clearly felt each blow and was open about her experience, often telling us (complete strangers wearing COVID masks) about the meaning of certain lost possessions. She openly cried when she saw the handprints of her children in the concrete on the living room floor, exposed now after being hidden for years under the carpet. I could only imagine the flood of emotions she must have been experiencing then. Waves of sorrow and loss rising and breaking through the dams of social expectation to be emotionally tough. Much like the flood to this home; dismantling, unexpected, and unwelcome. What impressed me about Barb was that she still functioned through it. She made hard decisions about what needed to be done, was present with those around her, and expressed gratitude and joy. Not everyone can do that. Her husband came to drop off supplies, took a look at the destruction to his childhood home, and quite understandably, left. Difficult emotions have often been compared to water. Their weight has the potential to pull us down under an ocean of sadness, fear, or anger. No wonder we try to resist, numb, and escape. But as Barb knows, there are skillful ways to deal with them so they wash through us, allowing us to stay afloat.
Avoiding emotions actually makes them stronger. It’s like having a flooded house whose waters never recede—they float around in the basement growing toxic mold and infecting everything else. Research shows suppressed emotion has negative consequences on memory, blood pressure, aggression, anxiety, and depression. And there are consequences to our relationships. Have you ever found yourself thinking, “Why did I do that? I didn’t mean to be so sharp.” An overreaction is your body’s way of releasing pent up emotions that haven’t been properly dealt with.
All Emotions Have Value
The first thing we do wrong is to label certain emotions as “negative” or “bad.” In reality, all emotions have profound value. Author Joie Seldon explains that emotions are a physiological information system. They are the language of the physical body telling you about your relationship to whatever is going on outside you (such as people or circumstances) or to yourself internally. They are prompting you to action that is optimally beneficial to your survival and well-being. Seldon describes sadness, for example, as an inward-moving energy. It slows us down and it’s message is to take action to process and honor what has been lost. Fear is a protective emotion whose message is to “pay attention”—either to something outward or to something on the inside. And anger is an outward-moving energy. It is a boundary-setting emotion whose message is to “stand in your power.” So when the floods come, welcome them, and ask what message your body is trying to tell you.
This Is Temporary
Another mistake we make is that in the heat of the moment we tend to focus only on our present emotional state and think it will last forever. During an argument with your spouse, suddenly all past and future good times are forgotten: she has never done anything good for you, and essentially has ruined your life. You forget that 24 hours earlier you were happily playing tennis together and tomorrow you will have forgotten what the argument was even about. Author Sonja Lyubomirsky points to research that older individuals are happier than younger ones partly because they have learned through experience that difficult emotional states don’t last; as a result, they are better able to weather them with optimism. They are able to be aware of what they are feeling without overly identifying with it. One practice that helps develop this skill is the “leaves on a stream” exercise, which you can find here.
Recognize, Allow, Investigate, Nurture
The practice of RAIN is an excellent method to develop a good relationship with emotions. It involves:
Being mindful of and naming the emotion
Allowing it to be there just as it is (“This Belongs”)
Investigating with kindness (“What most wants attention?”)
Nurturing with self compassion
You can try this practice with Tara Brach here.
Processing vs. Ruminating
Processing leads to acceptance and release, but if you are stuck in a negative loop of replaying past hurts, if the feeling has the same intensity without moving toward solutions or feelings of resolution, then this is rumination. Rumination doesn’t produce new ways of thinking, new behaviors, or acceptance. If you find yourself stuck, you can move toward processing by asking yourself “What have I learned from this situation? In what ways have I grown? What is the message for me? What is my plan of action according to my values?”
And Be Kind to Yourself
I think the key to dealing with emotions is learning self-compassion. Emotions aren’t weakness—they are human. And, as far as I know, everyone is human and has a need for kindness, especially from our worst inner critics. Dr. Jared Warren’s Self-Compassion course was a game-changer for me in learning to exercise self-compassion, and I highly recommend it.
After an emotional day of cleanup, I stood with Barb outside her gutted home on dry ground with the sunlight bouncing off the plaster in her hair. I felt assured that she would be okay. She was smiling and laughing with us, telling us of her gratitude for the support of friends and faith. The flood waters had receded from this house, and they would recede from her.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
— Jellaludin Rumi