To me, it is a very fine line between rejecting an emotional state, making myself invalid for feeling it, and the condition as I describe above, where I am allowing it, seeing it, and not going along with it. That is a form of acceptance, to me.
Thanks for writing this, Andy (and for indulging me in that embarrassing oversight of that crucial word). I also LOVE what you wrote here (and agree 100% with it). That's definitely a form of acceptance to me too.
What you describe is such a tricky balance. I wish I had the answer to it. Sure would make my life easier. I feel like being mindful helps. But you have to be mindful enough to be mindful (if that makes sense)...and when there are such strong emotions or reactions at play (ones that perhaps have a history of being rejected so are especially sensitive to being stifled), getting to a nonjudgmental, mindful place feels near-impossible. It isn't actually impossible, of course, but for me there are certainly times it feels that way.
The example you gave really resonated with me too. I used to struggle a lot with anger. Actually, I think I struggled with this exact problem, of finding that balance between validating an enraging emotion or experience, yet not having it take over me/identify with it completely. I was a very, very angry child. But what made things worse, I think, was that I felt like I was my only advocate. No one else could understand why I was so angry or upset about something, and since I was so overcome with the rage at the situation AND the frustration at being, once again, not heard I continually wasn't able to express the anger, or my needs, in a way others could hear. (We had a name for that in my house growing up -- "good points, poor presentation.") So pushing down the anger or reactivity got to be near impossible, and rather painful. It was like I was denying myself the right to feel. It felt like I was turning on myself, betraying myself, and that the part of me that others supported was the part of me that rejected that anger. Needless to say, it was just awful.
Now, though, I have the opposite problem. I'm terrified to feel anger, to express it, because I'm terrified of that turmoil coming back. I think at some point when I told my rage or anger to "beat it" it finally did, sort of, but I'm only human and there are some things in my life that do enrage me. I can see them and I can rationally say they're there and they just plain suck. Yet, I don't know how to fully feel the impact of them, or I'm scared of feeling them, or both. But as I have more experiences of being able to feel, validate, and let go of anger, I feel I have more information that I'm not going to spiral back into that angry child and completely fall apart again.
Something I've found useful in getting me to a more mindful, balanced place is
IFS therapy. It's a form of self-therapy (also can be done with a therapist) that a few of us here have used and found helpful. Through this approach, I've been able to separate myself (the core of myself, that is -- IFS simply calls it Self) from the part of me that is angry. Then I talk with that part, listen to it, hear its concerns, validate those concerns and its experience, and then when I'm able to, send it compassion. Through that process the strong, loud feeling of anger (and those fears that the anger will take over me) start to fade, and I can start to move on, without running away.
It sounds a bit nutty, I know, but if you're open to things like this, I'd suggest looking into it. Just thinking about myself in "parts" as IFS teaches has helped me navigate that very fine line you described.
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