Emotional heavy-lifting, when it counts

This is an upsetting time in our country. I'm not gonna lie, when I'm upset, people tend to know it. I talk it out, I tell someone else to drive, I play the drums or use a punching bag, I cry at movies, I frequently give detailed feedback. I really don't like the idea that if someone gets hurt, such as on the scene of an emergency, crowds of people will often freeze or ignore it; in many real situations, no one steps forward to help. I never want that happen if I'm there, I want people to be moved to compassionate action if in small part because they knew me. If something unjust or hurtful happens, or someone's life could be made better and I might be able to do something, I don't shut up about it, I latch on to it, I get intensely focused on making it fair and right. Sometimes I make a whole damn career out of it.

So the news drives me crazy. And I want a break. But I have to wonder - is that a bad thing? Am I copping out of emotional heavy-lifting because I can? Am I privileged to wear my heart on my sleeve, speak my mind, and take a break from the hard stuff whenever I want?

To a certain degree, the answer is well - yes. Of course. Not everyone flips out when they see baby ducks. Not everyone can point out a problem and expect to be relatively safe, listened to, or protected. I get far more upset and blown over about racism, violence, and oppression than I have any right to be, considering how regretfully common they are in so many people's lives.

In a way, I've inherited an emotional vacation home by the luck of the social draw. I get (metaphorical) emotional PTO from life's hardest issues, I can afford to take a break from some of the hardest work there is in society, a benefit doled out by classes that would get an actual employer sued to hell and back. (Not for all. I don't get blissfully ignorant breaks from women's issues, or LGBT issues most of the time, but that class can be more invisible.) I'm in danger of taking it for granted that others will continue to shoulder hard emotional burdens for me so I can continue to avoid exercising those muscles - which is exactly what fragility means when people warn about it in the context of dealing with racism.

From another angle, on a more personal level, my emotions haven't always been honest with me. Sometimes I feel strongly like punching something. Sometimes I want to stay in bed for weeks. It's taken me a while, through teenagerdom and young adulthood, to fully realize my gut doesn't always know what's most important or what's a good idea. It's taken me that time to make friends with my emotions. Like friends I consider what they say - at the root of it they're trying to look out for me - but I don't take advice from them unquestioned. I know there's a difference between a thought, doing something therapeutic, and doing something strategic.

For a while - especially about "little things" - I would get upset at myself for getting upset. Unfortunately that's a vicious cycle. It just makes things worse to get frustrated about being frustrated. Nowadays I try to separate my emotions as things that happen, they can come up and pass by - apart from what I'm going to actually decide to do when I consider what's right, what's wrong and everything. I think about how it can be a good thing, and a helpful thing to have these reactions along for the ride with me.

It's good to be connected to the world through empathy. If I walk by someone in desperate need of help or someone shouting for joy and feel nothing, is that really better? Do I want to hear about hard problems and instead of instinctively wanting to solve them, distract myself with "the endless search for more and more refined gastronomic pleasures"? No. If I'm thinking about how I can give up a coffee this week and put another $5 towards a monthly gift to charity instead, that's a good thing. If I'm bothered by a racist joke because it immediately brings to mind how small things lead to big, harmful things, that's a spur to action I don't want to lose. My heart is a compassionate friend to have along with me. Getting uncomfortable when I'm reminded I could do more good is OK.

There are also some people who get really excited when they see a turtle. I'm one of those people. There are two sides to that coin and hopefully humanity is richer for it.

I also need to work on my emotional heavy-lifting. It's helpful to be reminded of that, too. If I need a break from the world because puppies are cute or news headlines are hard, I've stepped back from other responsibilities that I consider far more vital. That lump in my throat tells me where I can grow, where I can get stronger and be more present. It's a signal to me that while it's not useful being mad at myself for being where I am here and now, it's right to face a hard truth. I've been able to avoid a certain amount of exhausting emotional heavy-lifting that others have had no choice but to bear. There's a sensible, rational friend in me - a kind of friendly, hardworking coach - telling me having my emotions are OK, but there's work to do and I'm needed. If I can be more ready I can help more, and that's something I truly want. I feel like there are parallels to training in First Aid: I hate the sight of blood and I'd never be an ER doctor. I can avoid getting my hands dirty altogether and let someone else do it. But it's more important to me than maintaining my comfort to train to be ready to help someone, to be prepared with a certain amount of knowledge and willingness to step up readily when I see harm, and know how I can help. Whether I'm camping with a group of friends, in the office, or on the city street. I need to be prepared for the most important work when I am called upon as a citizen of the world, to be more than a helpless bystander. I am always called upon.

Both ideas lead me to the same conclusion: stay open, keep going, and do better.

Right now, in the middle of a very upsetting time in our country, it's easy to feel exhausted. It's a good idea to focus on tangible things we can do to make real change, near us and sooner, where we can see the affects. Build those muscles for longer and longer hauls. Get discouraged and get back up quicker. I'm as unlikely to become a grief counselor or a pastor as I am to become a firefighter or an ER doctor... Which is to say mostly unlikely. I have advocate talents and teacher talents, organizer and manager and artist talents and stickler-for-getting-it-right talents. I don't have many stoic talents, many shut-up or leave-it-be talents. Maybe that's OK; as the zen master said to his students, "you're all perfect exactly as you are and you could all use a little improvement."

Something in me is always reminding me I'm OK and I could grow. I'm working on my emotional heavy-lifting, to be there when it counts.