Stop Using Words to Escape Feelings

When I’m no longer afraid of feeling completely, I smile because I can’t help it

This week I felt a powerful emotion.

I don’t remember how it came about. Maybe after a conversation or maybe while doing some work.

The feeling was uncomfortable and disturbing. It made me feel like my chest was ready for its grand destruction. Like I was ready for blasting off into my very own hollow and lonely space journey. I felt like clutching to my insides just so I didn’t fall to the ground.

Obviously, I wanted to get away from this feeling. So, how did I do that?

I mean, I could distract myself as perfectly as the next person, but at my core, was there something I was doing instantly to get rid of this feeling, maybe even without realizing it?

What I wondered was, how was I using words when it came to this intense feeling.

It seems like I’m doing it right now, explaining it away. Can you see what I’m doing?

I feel terrible. I feel bad. I feel so much pain.

What am I doing? I am using words to describe how I feel. Why am I doing that? It seems to help. So, if writing about how I feel is helping me get away from the way I actually feel, then will I ever deal with the intense feeling at all? It seems like I’m running away through this explanation.

So, what’s wrong with that? The thing is that this feeling will come up again. Maybe this week, maybe tomorrow, maybe now. Am I going to keep running away from it? What if I don’t name it? What will happen to me? Will I explode? Or will I finally deal with it? I only have to find out.

If I don’t name this feeling, I’m not going to lose my ability to communicate how I feel. What will happen though is that I will see if I’m using words to run away from how I feel.

And when I’m no longer afraid of feeling completely, I smile because I can’t help it.

Now, I don’t know about you, but as soon as I smile because I can’t help it and start refuelling my soul, I end up thinking about it and begin the journey back toward the initial uncomfortable feeling.

Somewhere I have learned that too much of a good thing is never good and good things never last. So, yes, I definitely need to get away before that let down lets me way too down.

This is too bad because when I don’t run away I end up dealing with the emotion directly, and I feel like my chest is ready for its grand resurrection. There is no longer a need to escape the planet and instead, I want to embrace it. Finally, I can let go of my insides. I don’t even feel the need to have my feet on the ground.

This great new insight is exactly that. Great. Amazing. Perfect. What’s the use of describing it? I think it’s far more important to have this and let it act through me. What do you think?

But as it stands, the uncomfortable feeling evidently makes it return. I could also use positive words to try and get away this time. How does it feel when I tell myself I’m okay? Or that I’m doing great, that I’m fine, that I just need a little faith?

Most people have never tried to observe this process within themselves, but you can experience this for yourself quite easily. You can do it right now. Just look around. Look at anything. Observe how you use words to describe, label, judge, or discredit something or somebody. And then, destroy the word. Discover how you see without the word, even if it’s just for a second.

And if you want to take this process further and play with your emotions, seeing if you do the same thing with your feelings, you can try this out in my latest game, The Word Is Not The Thing.

In the game, you get a chance to observe your own emotional connection to words, staying with a word, removing it, and observing for yourself if you use another set of words to explain away whatever it is you’re feeling.

So that, maybe, we can all smile because we can’t help it.

creator of games for going into things like love, death, fear, time, thought and stuffz like that. https://mavenmob.com

creator of games for going into things like love, death, fear, time, thought and stuffz like that. https://mavenmob.com