The beauty of allowing

I woke up feeling sad. My energy was low, melancholic, resigned. There was a heaviness to it, but also a comfort and familiarity. It was a Saturday, the sky was bright, and the day was ahead of me.

Normally, I would respond to that with a concoction of self-criticism and self-analysis. I’d blame myself for feeling what I was feeling, making mental lists of all the reasons I shouldn’t be feeling it; I’d blame myself for wasting the opportunity to enjoy the weekend, and I’d inquire into what’s causing the feelings, what’s causing the causes, and whether it’s reasonable to feel this way—questions all stemming not from curiosity, but from a desire to fix things by overcome the sad feelings as soon as possible.

But instead, I just was with the sadness. It had its own reason to be there, and I allowed it, without probing into it or attempting to shove it away. My mind, which is naturally very inquisitive, swayed over and over into asking questions, and I just reminded it to relax. To let things be.

This impulse to fix in order to find perfect circumstance is very deeply rooted in us. Whenever we feel something unpleasant, we add insult to injury by forcing ourselves to answer questions, so we can stop feeling whatever we are feeling, and start feeling something much better, so we can get on with having a good time.

Our feelings and bodily reactions are pieces of information that are trying to tell us something. We often jump into inquisition, bombarding ourselves with questions, so we can find the meaning and the answers, and get it right next time. But what we’re trying to fix isn’t broken and it doesn’t want to be fixed—it wants to be. Often, what our feelings are trying to tell us is that they want to be seen, heard and held. They want us to afford them the space to be. And as I did that, not as means to an end, but from a place of love and self-compassion the sadness started dissipating.

The magic of being is not in finding perfect circumstances, but in being fully present to the circumstances as they are. We’re not looking for perfection, we’re looking for intimacy with life.