I used to always worry about crumbling. I always thought that crumbling was a destructive force that would, one day, if I didn’t hold it together, break me. I used to gird myself in, strap myself in and pull myself in to stave off the annhiliation that I was convinced an outbreak of emotion would cause.
It’s not that I now welcome falling to the floor and weeping. It’s just I no longer attribute a mythical sword status to it. I know I shall not impale and wound myself mortally as tears fall. Because the difference between a breakdown and a breakthrough is just a matter of perception.
If you believe that your emotions are your core, that the black dog mood that has settled in is somehow your truth, then you can only sink and sink deeper. But if you believe that your emotions are but indices of how you’re travelling; of what you are paying attention to and ignoring; and what your inner voice needs to say; then you can but expand from your melting mind.
The difference lies in choosing not to identify yourself as that moment, but to listen to what is actually being triggered in that moment. It is not judging yourself against expectations of emotional stoicism but settling into it to better understand. It’s not chastising yourself, it’s seeing the message.
From day to day, I am slowly learning to appreciate that that which comes from within should not be feared but respected, questioned not quashed and freed rather than feared. It’s harder than it sounds, but with each quiet moment of introspection, the wings unfurl.