To Emote or Not to Emote

For the warrior of light,
there is no such thing as an impossible love.
He is not intimidated by silence,
indifference or rejection.
He knows that, behind the mask of ice
that people wear, there beats a heart of fire.
Without love, he is nothing.
Paul Coelho, The Manual of the Warrior of Light

If we listen to our intellect, we would never have a love affair. We would never have a friendship. We’d never go into business, because we’d be too cynical. Well that’s nonsense. You’ve got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down. Annie Dillard, poet


While contemplating the above quotes I began thinking about the idea that some people are emotional and others are not, some people cast off all controls and let ‘er rip, while others remain all buttoned up and safe, and that both are particular personality types with unique ontologies that cannot be changed.

I am an emotional person. By this I mean that I feel things in a Big Way. I rarely have any middling emotions: they are all incredibly intense and deeply passionate. I spent most of my life seeking to hold these emotions at bay, to subdue them, and, sometimes, (more like most-of-the-time) even to deny them. As they were usually so damn intense, they scared me to pieces! The problem, of course, is that I cannot learn to appropriately manage my emotions if I don’t first acknowledge and accept their presence.

Anyway, I can’t even begin to count the times I have heard people say, “Well, I am simply not that way.” The typical idea here is that some people are emotional and some people are not: some people are swirling pools of Emotional Highs and Lows, while others are more cerebral by nature. But I have an idea that, while there is some truth to this difference in personality-types, all humans actually are quite “emotional.”

Even the most Stoical person usually experiences great emotions when they fall in love, do they not? And although this experience may be masked by icy composure, deep within the emotions are on fire. The question I have is, Why the composure? Why not let the fire blaze? Why not allow others to see and feel the blaze?

I often think of all this when I am attending a church worship service where everyone is so controlled, their emotions all buttoned-down and managed, sounding as if they didn’t actually believe a word they were singing. Reminds of me of another quote by Dillard:

“On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea of what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake some day and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.” Teaching a Stone to Talk

Here we are standing in the presence of Almighty God the Creator and Savior of the world, responding as if we were merely attending a mundane lecture on how to make mashed potatoes. Exactly how is this an appropriate emotional response to what actually is occurring?

I think part of the challenge for some people is simply (I do not say “simplistically”) a case of being uncomfortable with displays of emotions of any kind. Here it is a matter of learning to be comfortable, of maturing in Emotional Intelligence.

Another challenge for some people is that sense of ”losing control.” “What if I say the wrong thing?” “What if I appear foolish?” “What if my emotions are not met with approval or acceptance?” And so forth. Far wiser to suppress the feelings than to be, do or say something “wrong.”

Yes, yes, I know that emotions as I am describing ebb and flow, and cannot be the sole basis for behavioral choices and decision-making. Yet why is it that, for so many people, this is the first thing that comes to mind? Why is the first thought about control or about downplaying the significance of our emotional responses? This is not a rhetorical question, but an honest one for some of you to reflect upon.

For you whom are followers of Christ, consider the fruit of the Holy Spirit’s work within you. Let’s take peace and joy. Are these not psychological states, particular emotional responses to life, people, events and circumstances rooted in your faith regarding the Sovereign and Good of God? Ask yourself this: do you want a little bit of joy, or to be overflowing with joy? Do you want a small measure of peace or a peace that passes understanding?

Making promises and keeping them, regardless of passing emotions, are one of the marks of a mature character, sure enough. Yet it intrigues me that so many people’s lives are defined solely by Will Power, rarely experiencing the joy and pleasure of the process of committing. What does it say, for example, of our committing to Christ, when we fail to en-joy the process? Again, I acknowledge that our promise is what holds us steady when we fail to “feel” like being a faithful follower, yet if we rarely (if ever) experience joy or his promise of the Abundant Life, what is this communicating to us about the state of our faith, the state of our ongoing relationship with him? And, changing contexts, what does it say about our commitment to living life to the fullest when we experience so little of what is available to us? Or should I be asking whether or not you are committed to living life to the fullest?

For many people the lack of emotional experiences is not so much due to a particular temperament, but to a desire to protect oneself. They intuitively understand that if they are vulnerable to love, they are vulnerable to pain; that if they are open to joy, they are also opened to sadness; that if they “lose control,” they lose the ability to protect themselves from unwanted emotions. They are correct of course; yet living this way robs them of the life and love hey were created to experience, and arrests their growth as a fully functioning human being.

Given our God-created capacity for giving and receiving love, for experiencing joy and peace, regardless of circumstances, why settle for a “controlled” love for God and others, or for a “managed” joy, or a mere pittance of peace? Standing on a cliff where we perpetually consider the risks, calculate the potential costs, and ruminate over what-could-go-wrong is no way to go through life and all that it has to offer. At least not if you wish to find love, joy, peace and the fullness of all that life has to offer.

I am with Annie Dillard here: the only way to experience the fullness of all that life has to offer is to jump off the cliff and build wings on your way down.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2009