The courage to feel deeply
If I can normalise the expression of emotion for one person today, then I consider this a success.
If you’ve ever had the immense pleasure of attending one of my talks, you’ve likely seen me tear up on stage while the organisers run to bring me a box of tissues. If you haven’t, here’s a clip (no more FOMO).
Growing up, I’ve always been an emotional kid. I was incredibly curious about human behaviour and emotions. It led me down a path of observation, reading and deep reflection. Having studied Medicine, knowing the world of Psychiatry and Psychology I’ve learnt a thing or two on this topic.
My conclusion is that we live in a world deprived of feeling deeply. Life is all about surface-level, fleeting emotions. Everything is constantly changing — seldom do we take the time to sit with an emotion to understand its deepest roots in our psyche.
Here’s what I want to share with you today:
Why I’m comfortable with being openly emotional (evidently)
What it has taught me about life
How you can learn to feel deeply
Why I’m comfortable with crying (and why you should be too)
Think back to when you last cried with laughter. ROFL, stomach pain, silent smiling because you ran out of breath from the pure joy of laughter, with tears streaming down your cheeks.
In that instance, how do people respond?
A: “Hey! Stop laughing!”
B: *Laughs with you*
It’s always B.
It’s widely accepted to cry out of joy and laughter, almost encouraged. In sadness, however, crying is seen as a shameful act. The most common response to a person crying out of sadness is, “don’t cry.”
Isn’t that odd?
Both joy and sadness are emotions on opposite sides of the spectrum; both, in extreme, result in tears, but one is acceptable while the other is framed as weakness.
I get it, nobody likes to see a loved one cry, so the premise of saying ‘don’t cry’ is out of compassion and love. But the underlying message is teaching us on a societal level that expressing sadness is not good for you. That it should be hidden, not expressed. The phrase ‘lump in the throat’ comes from the act of holding it in when you feel the need to cry. Granted it should be with the right people and in the right space, but why are we naturally inclined to hide and suppress negative emotions?
Did you know that crying is a physiological response to heightened stress that actually reduces stress? Think back to your last cry (I know that every single one of you has btw), once you expressed it, let it out, what were you left with?
Externally? Puffy eyes. Red cheeks. A wet beard (sorry girls). But internally? A sense of relief. A weight lifted off the shoulders. A level of clarity.
We often reflect deeply right at the end of the cry.
Emotional tears contain higher levels of cortisol (the stress hormone), so crying is a literal release of stress. The reason you can think clearly after crying is that you’ve just unloaded a lot of stress. Crying is part of the emotional processing that needs to happen, among other things I’ll get into.
So next time you’re feeling it, don’t be shy to let it out. It is a natural and healthy part of emotional processing, and it would be silly to think you can go your whole life without feeling sorrow, sadness or grief at some point.
What it taught me
Crying is an indication of deep emotions — when I’m giving a lecture or speaking to a close one, if I find myself getting tearful, it shows me the parts of my life that matter most. Although I am emotional, it still takes a lot to make me cry (I’m not a crybaby lol). It’s a phenomenal method to understand yourself better.
Let me share some examples of the last few times I cried:
On my last flight home (I almost always cry on planes because I sit in deep thought) — on this occasion it was out of gratitude about my life right now.
Today in conversation with my mom — I could see the tears in her eyes too, but they only welled up a little. It was a nice conversation about the last decade of my life and how things have changed.
During prayer last weekend — I have a friend who is teaching me how to connect with prayer, and it really levelled up my connection, but I cried out of guilt that I’d wasted so many prayers without that connection (خشوع).
Whether it’s joy, sadness, grief or pain, I like to sit with each emotion and feel it deeply. I almost invite it in and take a seat with it. I know that might sound weird or even like self-harm, but it’s quite the opposite. When you address and face your emotions head-on, you’re able to deal with them much better.
If you knew me personally, you’d know I’m extremely calm and rarely lose my temper. I have near complete control of my emotional state most of the time, not because I’m a robot, but quite the opposite. I feel deeply, and I understand my body. I know what each emotion feels like physically, where it starts and how it manifests. I have learnt to observe and take charge of my emotions, rather than let them dictate my next move.
I don’t act on impulse, nor on emotion. I act with logic while acknowledging the emotions simultaneously. A sweet combination where you’re not stoic, but you’re not an emotional wreck. Let me just add that I’m not perfect. I do falter, but I know how to take care of my internal state to a decent standard.
This is a skill set that I’ve learnt from feeling deeply. Sitting with emotions, journaling, reflecting and revisiting those reflections in later occurrences. I guess you’d call this emotional intelligence to an extent, but I just call it studying your internal self. It’s one of those really important things in life that they don’t teach you in school.
So, how can I do the same?
Good question.
The answer is simple, but it’s not easy. Let me break it down into digestible steps in true Daanish fashion. I love a good list.
Spend more time in silence with your emotions. Just like a child on a hill watching the clouds float by, you need to spend time watching your internal state. Walking in nature is a good space to do this.
Write about your emotions while in heightened states — more importantly, revisit these entries later on when you’re back at baseline. That’s where you reflect again on what you think about your emotions from the third-person perspective.
Speak less, move slower, think longer before you do anything. Try to be more intentional with every aspect of living. You’ll surprise yourself how many actions are driven by fleeting emotions.
Talk about your emotions in great detail. Describe how you feel, then where you feel it. Talk about what it feels like and how it’s impacting your thoughts, behaviours and movement. Emotions are a full-body experience, so don’t be shy.
In other words, I want you to treat your emotions like friends. When they knock on the door, answer and let them in. Make a cup of tea, sit with them, have a long chat and try to understand why they stopped by. Learn to live with them inside the house without letting them call the shots. Above all, remember that there is no such thing as a bad emotion, but only bad reactions. What defines a person is not what they feel but what they do with that feeling. A short-tempered person cannot control anger — the issue is not the anger, but how it’s dealt with and what happens after:
An outburst or a timeout?
I’ve been actively journaling, walking in nature, reading books, writing and expressing myself for over a decade (that makes me sound old but let’s pretend I’m still 21). All I have learnt is that this is an ongoing learning process. Just as you begin to figure yourself out, you change. And you keep changing through life due to experience, people, location and environment over time.
The art of knowing oneself is a never-ending pursuit, but it will open up healthy relationships, accountability and understanding. Over time, you will find more resilience, better management of difficulty and a healthier avoidance of deep sadness. You will reach a point where you can pinpoint when and where something switched inside you, insha’Allah, allowing you to save yourself before you hit crisis.
Today’s post was started on a plane journey and finished in my bedroom, very much a stream of consciousness post that I’m oh so tempted to just post without even proofreading. I’ll read once more tomorrow before this goes live, but I just want to share one final message to the loyal reader who has stayed this far:
Being stoic is glorified in society. It’s seen as the epitome of self-development (probably because of the red pill movement), but in my experience, those who feel deeply and express themselves no matter which end of the spectrum they’re feeling, live better lives.
“What an empty life it would be to not feel deeply. Vulnerability is the price we pay for a life rich in emotion.”
Originally published on Substack.