Leaning Into What "No Longer Serves You"
Grief as a Directional Tool
We live in a cancel culture, one that not only eliminates people, but also any thoughts and emotions, that make us feel uncomfortable.
Don’t believe me?
I recently did a quick Google search of this theme, which yielded over 286 million results. From leaving dating relationships, jobs, and friendships to career paths and behaviors, “letting go of what no longer serves you” is a popular topic these days.
And I get it. I’ll be the first one to admit that we should let go of negative beliefs about ourselves, abusive relationships, and experiences that put us in harms way. I can think of situations in my own past that I needed to walk away from in order to preserve my sense of self, integrity, and beliefs.
What frustrates me, however, is that the notion of walking away from emotions that make us feel uncomfortable is also heavily promoted in today’s society.
For example, if feelings of sadness rise up in the midst of a challenging situation, you should probably leave it. If you’re emotionally triggered by something someone says, you should probably distance yourself from the relationship. If you experience discomfort on the job, related to a tense encounter with a coworker, you should probably submit a letter of resignation.
It’s actually pretty astounding to think about how emotion and conflict avoidant we are as a society. If things aren’t neatly wrapped with a pretty little bow on them, it’s easier to discard the emotions and conflicts than actually address them head on.
I’d like to argue that emotions and healthy conflict actually do serve us.
Prior to late 2012, I’d say I lived a pretty charmed adult life for the most part. I lived in sunny Southern California, traveled the globe on missions and personal trips, drove my preferred cars, and enjoyed quality family relations and friendships. While I wasn’t avoidant, I can admit that I didn’t particularly enjoy the emotional ebbs and flows — and sometimes challenges — within my relationships. And because things generally flowed smoothly, I didn’t exercise the skills required to healthily navigate tough situations.
This way of living, however, came to an abrupt halt when my mom died in late 2012. Her 30-day ‘from diagnosis to death’ timeline, coupled with the crushing weight of grief that naturally flowed afterwards, completely overwhelmed me.
Grief and lament became my constant companions and after working hard to outrun the pace of grieving for nearly two years, it became clear this wouldn’t work. No, grief was there to remain for the rest of my days.
Roughly two years later, with the help of an amazing therapist, I began to lean into the pain of grief.
While it felt like it ‘didn’t serve me,’ what I began to realize is that our emotions do serve us.
Grief can serve us.
My therapist invited me to embrace the fact that emotions point us in the direction of our pain.
They serve as a compass, affording us cues to northern heartache, southern confusion, eastern fear and anxiety, and western fatigue. Not to mention all the other directional derivatives!
Over time — and with support — I realized that the emotions associated with grief served me in several ways, as follows:
They nudged me to actually process the pain of my loss, as opposed to pretending that it didn’t even exist.
They created space for me to compassionately care for myself in ways I’d never known prior to loss.
They forced me to explore a new sense of meaning and purpose of life.
They shifted me out of surface relationships into a community with more emotional and spiritual depth.
They caused me to ask the hard questions, in relationship to Jesus Christ, strengthening my communion with Him.
They challenged me to resist the urge to emotionally isolate and instead, pursue emotional authenticity.
What I thought ‘no longer served me’ actually became a vehicle for incredible inner transformation, spiritual growth, and relational healing.
And yes, the pain of grief still remains. It’s a lifelong untethering of it in relationship to who I am and how I choose to thrive in life.
My questions to you, my friend, are …
What’s your relationship to your thoughts and emotions?
In ways do you believe they ‘no longer serve you,’ and is this an accurate way of viewing them?
Is it possible that your emotions might be pointing you towards your pain? If so, what’s the pain point?
How can you softly and compassionately tend to your pain?
I’d love to journey alongside you as a recovering ‘cancel-minded’ and fellow grieving heart. Be sure to subscribe to SOFTER Society and share your thoughts.
As always, I’m glad you’re here!
xo, Mekel
