There’s a great discussion brewing over at Dave Schoof’s site, The Disquiet, about the places we go inside when life isn’t showing up the way we think it should. Namely, we blame ourselves.
I wrote an article about this a couple years ago, while living in Florida, and now that this discussion is going, it seemed perfectly timely to post it again (it’s a timeless topic, after all), with a few edits for clarity’s sake. It speaks to the feelings we have, and judge ourselves for…
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The last few days in my office I had been feeling as if something was missing in my work. I took that feeling to mean that I was barking up the wrong tree, and that I should change my focus, my approach, or what I was teaching and to whom.
I assumed, given my feelings of discontent, that I was wrong about my course. “I must be making the wrong choice,” I surmised, “and I need to throw it away and find something new in order to be happy.”
I don’t know about you, but in my mind, that sounded pretty logical. And even though I wasn’t conscious of it at the time, that’s what was driving me. So, I took the afternoon off to have a mini-adventure and clear my creative playing field.
I won’t bore you with the details of my adventure (well, since you asked, I went disc golfing and took in a movie), but as I drove home, I still felt less than wonderful. I realized that under the surface, I was still, well, bugged.
But then, a song came from the cd player that drew me in. I was listening to “Live Songs and Stories” by David Wilcox, and he was telling a story about a time that he learned, quite synchronistically, about the feelings of loneliness in his heart:
When I get lonely
Now that’s only my sign
That some room is empty – and that room is there by design
If I feel hollow, that’s just my proof that there’s more
For me to follow – that’s what the lonely is for.
And it hit me, like it hit him: Just because I’m feeling a feeling that there’s more possible than what I’m touching into now doesn’t mean that what I’m doing is wrong, or that I’m wrong, or that (heaven forbid) I “should” be doing something else, so throw everything on the scrap heap!
Not at all. It just means that my heart knows that there is more to be had than I’ve had so far, more drink to be drunk, more taste to be tasted… and that it’s a good thing, not an omen.
How to Follow the Lonely
If you’ve got a feeling that you’re missing something, doing something wrong, or you just feel bugged about your course through life, then you just may need to “follow the lonely.”
First, take it as a sign that there is more to be had – not that you are “doing it wrong.” If there’s anything going around that there’s too much of, it’s the thought that we “should” be doing something else that we don’t know about. If you were supposed to be doing it, it would be brought to you to consider. Listening to what’s in front of you or not – that’s a different question altogether.
Then, take the time to connect into your own heart, and your heart’s knowing. Ask to be shown what you need to see; that’s the easiest and most direct way to get the guidance you need.
In my case, I saw both that there is another arena I’d like to expand into, and also that I need and want to give more to the people I’m currently helping. I hadn’t recognized that before, and it eased a huge burden from my heart.
And now, for the brave part: Say Yes to what you were shown. Following what your heart knows to be true, and living by the yearning of your heart — these things are what stretch you, and make your life a more authentic representation of your desires, values, and intentions.
In parting, some wisdom from Carl Jung:
Caution has its place, no doubt, but we cannot refuse our support to a serious venture which challenges the whole of the personality.
If we oppose it, we are trying to suppress what is best in man — his daring and his aspirations.
And should we succeed, we should only have stood in the way of that invaluable experience which might have given a meaning to life.
What would have happened if Paul had allowed himself to be talked out of his journey to Damascus?
Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart… Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.
Image courtesy of David Wilcox.
And thanks to all who have commented on the previous post so far: Char, Communicatrix, Barry W. Morris, Karin H.







Morning, Adam,
So true!
I easily identify with the “something must be wrong, and there must be something else I must do” syndrome”. And, I’ve been learning the truth of the “disquiet” as friend and guide.
Thanks for posting this.
Stuart Baker
http://www.consciouscooperation.com
You’re welcome, Stuart. Thanks for commenting.
From what I’m seeing, it’s the judgments we lay on our feelings that do so much damage to our peace levels… much more than the initial thought itself.
It’s no big deal to notice I feel empty, but when I make myself wrong for it… sheesh!
Feelings and judgments.
So true, Adam.
Years ago, I made a significant discovery that when I experienced anger, I could look at it as a clue to what is going on around/inside of me. Before that point, I felt terribly guilty about my feelings. What a maddening loop that was.
It took me a few more years before I gave myself the freedom to consider less “macho” feelings in the same way.
Even now, I’m in what Godin might call a dip/cul-de-sac (trying to determine which
). There could be a lot of guilt with this. Instead, I’m just sitting in it and studying the currents.
Ah..that last part…the courage thing. Saying ‘yes’ to what you are shown. Boy that is where the rubber meet s the road isn’t it. There have been so many times in my life that I am shown a path, a way of going or a new way of seeing and it just feels too far out there to reach for. I am learning slowly that at that point it is courage and faith. Like jumping off a diving board over an empty pool and really hoping/intending/knowing that water will fill in time.
I’m not the type to jump off a diving board over an empty pool. I do know when I start feeling lonely it’s time for me to listen to what’s going on inside myself. In the fullness of time it’s clear what I need to do next. For me it has never meant throwing out what I have, it’s just expanding my horizons and adding more to my life. The new always integrates with the old.
I was starting to say, “I agree with the courage part–even gentle steps means getting out of one’s comfort zone for a while.” But for me stretching myself and learning and growing is my comfort zone. There’s a rhythm to it–stretch and grow, then settle in and enjoy it, then a restless feeling when it’s time to take the next step.
Jean – Me neither
That is just what it feels like sometimes. The gentle steps are good. Like Yoga, there comes a point in the practice to begin stretching and holding into the edge – just beyond what is comfortable. And hang there, feeling what is happening and watching what is arising in the mind. And sometimes that is like taking that dive – at least for me.
Right on, Jeff — I was told years ago that anger always comes from feelings of helplessness. It took me years to get to the point where I could access the helplessness in the anger, though, and actually be able to do something with it… and I doubt the judgments I held about the anger helped much.
Dave and Jean: I hear what you’re saying about honoring the steps we need to take, and how our process is an individual one. I honor that completely.
And sometimes… just sometimes… I know I’m procrastinating. I’ve gotten much, much better at doing what needs to be done over the years, but there are times that I know I could use a swift kick in the right place. That’s when I’ve found this quote to be a good reminder:
Dave,
This business of being uncomfortable is interesting. There’s always a period when I’m doing something new that it really is uncomfortable. But I was lucky enough to be depressed when I was a kid, so I recognize when I start feeling stuck/down/whatever that it’s time for a new challenge. I worked professionally as a creative problem solver, writing software for scientific research. I would try to pick tasks that no one else knew how to do, so there was definite pressure. My motto was “I’d rather be scared than depressed.” (In the About section of my website I substitute the word bored for depressed, but for me they’re definitely linked.)
I figured part of the job was to handle those scared feelings without letting them throw me. It’s similar to your Yoga analogy, watch your breathing and be mindful. Don’t let the feelings toss you around. They’re just part of the process.
Adam,
I suppose what I was doing was similar to what you’re saying. I definitely stuck my neck out at times. But it wasn’t to motivate myself, it was to make sure I wouldn’t be wasting my life doing boring, meaningless work. Retirement was no problem, I already had some projects of my own lined up.
It reminds me of Wayne Muller’s book, Legacy of the Heart: The Spiritual Advantage of a Painful Childhood. It’s not a bad book, but I bought it for the title alone. It’s such a healthy attitude.
Jean, that is one heck of a title; “..The Spiritual Advantage of a Painful Childhood” That is quite a revolution to see it that way and walk into it. Thanks for mentioning the book.
Stuart Baker
http://www.consciouscooperation.com
Adam said,
I guess I never clued into the hopelessness component before. I used to understand it as the lack of control. When I came to peace about the control issue. I found that my anger could become a strong discernment tool. It’s kept me out of a lot of trouble over the years.
Jeff — “I guess I never clued into the hopelessness component before. I used to understand it as the lack of control.”
Right; helpless, not hopeless… lack of control often equals a feeling of helplessness. “Hopeless”, and we’re getting back to Jean’s depression (a situation I also found myself in as a child; chalk up one more similarity, Jean!).
And Jeff, good on you for “keeping you out of trouble”… mine always got me into it (still does, sometimes!).
And Stuart is right — that is one heck of a book title!
The way I look at it, we’re talking about optimizing our stress levels–generating just enough to get us moving but not so much that we’re overwhelmed.
I can’t/don’t-know-how-to insert a graph here, so could you look at the graph at the bottom of the page at “Optimizing Stress” on my site, and let me know what you think?
Thanks.
{Ed. note: I fixed the link…}
Whoops!!!
I meant helpless.
Not hopeless.
Jean, I like the graph; it makes it easy to understand the concept, especially with a topic like stress, where people can easily get locked into thinking none = good.
Adam and Dave,
I agree with you both…sometimes we need a good kick in the right place to get us moving and sometimes we need to take a leap of faith. Some of my best experiences have come from one or the other of those.
So, where does my talking about gentle steps come from? That’s another strategy that comes in handy. For me that’s when I know I’m on the right path and either feel overwhelmed by all there is to do, or else feel I’m walking in mush…every move is a great effort. I’m in the slightly overwhelmed phase right now, so thinking of one gentle step at a time relieves a lot of pressure. When I feel I’m walking in mush it helps me to think of inertia (Newton’s first law of mechanics): “A body in motion tends to stay in motion. A body at rest tends to stay at rest.” Those first few steps are the hardest, so don’t beat yourself up if they don’t show results right away. Persistence is the main thing. Have you ever seen one of those big cruise ships start up? The motors roar, the water churns and…nothing, at least to start. Then you start seeing the ship move an inch or so, then more, and finally it takes off. And once it starts going, it’s hard to stop.
So having trouble getting started isn’t a character flaw. It’s just the way things work sometimes. We’re complicated beings, with a lot of psychological mass.
“Psychological Mass” — I like that.
Adam – your article has rocked my world in a great way… So often I’m in the conversation of “What’s wrong with my work because it doesn’t feel right/perfect good enough?” I adore your take.
“It’s no big deal to notice I feel empty, but when I make myself wrong for it… sheesh!”
I would add, it’s no big deal to notice _____, but when I make myself wrong for it, look out!
Hi Jennifer, glad to hear your world has been rocked.
“What’s wrong?” affects our outlook so differently than something like, “what’s missing?”, huh? (More questioning, less judging)
YES! One of my favorite questions and entire areas of learnings in ontological coaching is about how we learn, and taking the shame of not knowing away. The wise person is the who doesn’t know what she doesn’t know.
Yet what rocked my world about your post is less that I ask what is wrong and more that I think I should do something differently if something feels wrong.
“First, take it as a sign that there is more to be had – not that you are “doing it wrong.” If there’s anything going around that there’s too much of, it’s the thought that we “should” be doing something else that we don’t know about. If you were supposed to be doing it, it would be brought to you to consider. Listening to what’s in front of you or not – that’s a different question altogether.
Then, take the time to connect into your own heart, and your heart’s knowing. Ask to be shown what you need to see; that’s the easiest and most direct way to get the guidance you need.”
This is so important! And ironically enough, it’s really the heart of my newest book, The Life Organizer, but there is something about being close to the material that makes is so hard to see or use sometimes!
Jennifer, “but there is something about being close to the material that makes is so hard to see or use sometimes!”
You ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie…
I’m at this juncture.
I know that I’m not to blame nor is anyone else.
Where I’m stuck is that I can’t hear whatever my heart is saying.
I don’t know what it is my heart is trying to show me.
I’ve sat in Remembrance, done yoga, read, journalled, talked with others and am not feeling impatient with the process.
However, I would like to facilitate getting to what my heart is wanting to show me.
Any thoughts on this?
Char
Hi Char, I hear where you’re coming from… the key, in my experience, is the dialogue. The internal dialogue, that is, that needs to happen between your heart and your conscious mind.
On some level, there’s no way to escape it — what’s right in front of you is what your ‘heart is trying to show you’… so,
1) don’t make it too hard; trust what you’re feeling, sink into it, and listen. And,
2) sometimes you may need the benefit of someone else’s container and expertise. That is, talking with friends may not do it; you may need to have a space created where you can sink into it, and be guided to find and trust what’s inside.
The modality isn’t as crucial as the intention to listen deeply and the ability to be present are.
Char, I sit in support of your painful place. And Adam gave you a great response. You may need more assistance. I feel there is a big opening, big sunshine and deep, quiet hearing just around the corner for you.
Take good care,
Stuart Baker
Char,
I agree that sometimes getting some guidance from someone with expertise can help. On the other hand/in addition, you might want to check out this article from Steve Pavlina that I came across that while exploring a few weeks ago. I already knew my present life’s purpose and was implementing it, but reading Steve’s article still affected me deeply. He says,
“Here’s what to do:
1. Take out a blank sheet of paper or open up a word processor where you can type (I prefer the latter because it’s faster).
2. Write at the top, “What is my true purpose in life?”
3. Write an answer (any answer) that pops into your head. It doesn’t have to be a complete sentence. A short phrase is fine.
4. Repeat step 3 until you write the answer that makes you cry. This is your purpose.”
I’ve done variations of that exercise before, and it always works well for me. But the thing that blew me away with his version was, “Repeat…until you write the answer that makes you cry.” That immediately touched my heart, and I was surprised to read that from a guy. Anyway, I didn’t think much more about it until that night, when I had a powerful dream (about my deceased parents and grandmother), burst into tears and woke myself up. I know what my deepest values are.
Anyway, good luck. Please let us know how it goes.
I’m not sure why the space appeared in the word about in the web address. It needs to be taken out.
(Ed.’s note: All fixed.)
Wow – what a supportive community you’ve created for us Adam.
Stuart – I really apppreciate your empathy…my issue is whether what I love to do is really viable in terms of making a living at it. So far, it hasn’t been. I’m working with someone to re-define my market while staying tuned in to messages from within. In the past, I’ve been a drama queen about this kind of thing but this time. . . it’s a quiet knowing that I’ll figure it out with lots of help from others and from God. Your support is really hitting the spot for me.
Thanks also to you Jean – I’ve gotten to that spot of knowing so clearly what my deepest values are that I burst into tears. I know what my passion is. . . again, a question whether passion (like love) is enough. In a utopic world, it is I know. I love my life. . . it is so satisfying . . . and part of what makes that so for me is the lifestyle that I live and want to continue to enjoy. So. . . therein is the question. . . can I turn my passion into my livelihood?
Adam – as always, oh wise one, you’re right on time about not making this process too hard on my self. Mark’s course is helping me through. Thanks so much for your gentle nudging to just allow the messages to come through.
Char,
It sounds as if Dave Schoof’s comment above (May 31st) is right on:
“…the courage thing. Saying ‘yes’ to what you are shown. Boy that is where the rubber meets the road isn’t it. There have been so many times in my life that I am shown a path, a way of going or a new way of seeing and it just feels too far out there to reach for. I am learning slowly that at that point it is courage and faith. Like jumping off a diving board over an empty pool and really hoping/intending/knowing that water will fill in time.”
Adam’s April 30th post on The Key to Dunking Your Doubts and Unclogging Your Optimism is another one worth rereading.
Please keep us posted. We’re all rooting for you.
Adam, I love this post. Back in April as I was driving back from LA where I had spent a week at a training seminar, I listened to that CD and that song, over and over. There was something about it that needed to get into my brain and my body. It finally did, and I just started crying as I drove. (Talk about multitasking!) It was one of those emotional expressions that seems to come from no particular source, but rather everywhere at once.
For me it’s not always about following the lonely (or whatever feeling is wanting to come up) but more about allowing the feeling to have the space to be expressed.
Great site, btw. I’ll be back!
Thanks Edward, you’re right on about the ‘allowing’ piece, in my opinion. That’s the ‘rule’ that this example is built on.