Feeling the Feelings

I know that a hot flash is coming as soon as my heartbeat picks up it’s pace.

I try to out-run it by quickly rolling up my sleeves.  I look for any object that can be turned into a fan.  Then, I try to slow my breathing down.

I hate hot flashes.  I often wonder what God was thinking when he allowed snoring and hot flashes to exist.

One day, I decided to accept my hot flash. I was going to simply take notice of it’s onset and lean in to the experience as an observer.

My experiment didn’t gain me any great scientific enlightenments with regard to this menopausal problem. It did lead me to consider uncomfortable feelings.

I’ve heard a lot of people in recovery talk about how difficult it is to feel their feelings. I remember the early days of learning about the addictions of our family members. The feelings of fear and worry overwhelmed me.

I’ve done a lot of work over the years to learn a new way of dealing with those feelings. But, the other day, I had an experience that stirred up some uncomfortable feelings and I had to sit with them and ponder why they were so bothersome.

In December, I am co-hosting a retreat for moms, who have children that struggle with addictions with a Dominican Sister at their retreat house in Dixon, Tennessee.  Sister made up a flyer and I  hand-delivered them to churches in our diocese.

I made an effort to get up, wear nice clothes and put on make-up. I planned three different days to cover different geographical areas.

The very first church that I entered, I introduced myself and told them about our retreat. They listened but offered no response. Then I asked if they’d mind putting up our flyers. They said they’d ask to see if it was okay.

They just stared at me. I felt vulnerable. Perhaps even small. I wondered if I had any business doing what I was doing.

The next church felt very different. The lady who met me in the church office got a little teary and told me how much this topic needed to be addressed. She thanked me as she walked me to the door.

Most of the Churches were like the second one. But, there were others where I felt as if I was an outsider, trying to get in.  By the end of the third day, I was emotionally exhausted. I came home with a headache.

My feelings were hurt. This is the Church. If you can’t come here with your problems, where can you go? Why is it harder to go to the Church than it is to a twelve-step meeting? I wanted to give up…

But with time, I decided to lean in to my feelings. Maybe the stigma of addiction is too frightening for them to face. Maybe it’s touched someone in their family. Maybe they are afraid of this disease itself–I certainly was in the beginning.

Then I thought…

What if I am here to plant a seed?

Maybe next time, they will be more welcoming.

Maybe not.

I think it’s time to keep leaning into the discomfort and start talking about this problem.  It’s too important.

Will you join me in the conversation?

I’d really like to hear what you think about this problem.