A lost princess.
Our ability to experience multiple emotions.
I treated myself to a slow morning today. I woke up early, as usual, but instead of getting straight into chores, to-do lists or some other productive task, I opened up Netflix on my phone, snuggled into the covers and watched one of my favourite shows. I had paused an especially riveting episode last night because my eyelids had insisted on closing. So this morning I was eager to get back into the thick of it, again enthralled by the series that I have seen at least twice before. It is usually my inclination to feel guilty about treating myself like this, having fun instead of being responsible. But that’s a thought pattern I’m trying to fight, and will likely continue to fight for some time.
In any case, something happened in my show which, predictably, made me think. I wonder if other people think as much as I do when they binge watch? In the last few minutes of the episode, a young princess sacrifices her life for another’s and in doing so saves countless lives in her kingdom. The next morning, the king and the young man who loved his daughter stand side by side, looking at the horizon. The young man says to the king, “you must be proud.” The king responds, “so proud. And sad.”
That caught me. When I think about feelings, I usually imagine them to be mutually exclusive; you can only feel one at a time. Of course, I know this to be wrong. Whenever I am overwhelmed by my emotions, it is never because of the overwhelming quantity of a single feeling, but rather a confusing and overbearing combination of feelings. For example, you might find that when you say you are angry, you may actually feel a mix of anger, fear, shame, guilt, etc. My heart connects with the fluidity and malleability of emotion, but my mind struggles with it. My brain likes boxes and sorting the whole world into them. If I use my mind to connect with my emotions I tend to oversimplify and insist that I tick one emotion box. Silly, I know.
The king’s sorrow was palpable. As was his pride. His recognition and acknowledgement of both emotions coexisting was beautiful. I think this was accentuated because his feelings weren’t fighting for superiority within him, one did not overpower the other. He was at peace. It reminded me of how incredible people are. We are undeniably complex, able to hold both grief and joy in one heart. I want you to hear that, you and I are wonderfully complicated. What a pleasure it is to stand side by side, experiencing the world together.