Observe the Distance

Fear. A lump in the back of my throat. Tears forming and rolling down. Chest contracting. Jaw clenching. And hands shaking.

Fear. As I sit in my car by a lake. Birds chirping. Ducks quacking. Leaves rustling. And water waving.

Fear. As I hesitantly write the words of this blog in my notebook. 

Why do I feel scared? What am I afraid of? A moment to think, please. 

(Thank you.) I’m afraid of presenting a contrarian view, while also being extremely vulnerable. It’s scary, it really is. But here I go…

Observations are such a fundamental and basic human process. We are always observing. From the way the car in front of us drives, someone’s outfit choice, the look someone gives you, to the subtle reaction others have to your input. These observations are not deliberate, we don’t even realize we do it.

Then there are specific contexts in which we have been taught to deliberately observe, such as in science labs. Observe the parts of a flower, difference in density of oil and water, or change in velocity of an object due to friction. We naturally see differences in parts of a flower, densities of various objects — such as, a beach ball on water — and objects slowing down due to friction, but we don’t notice it until we observe. 

We well understand that activities and events in the world, through observation, come to our awareness. In other words, we become aware of the changes around us through observation — that we don’t realize we are doing. Repeated observations of bushy, green leaves in the summer makes you aware of a plant with red leaves or the lack of leaves in the winter. Now, I hope to present to you another context in which deliberate observations can be applied — ourselves. 

Suppose you get a cramp in your leg. You are aware of the cramp because it differs from repeated observations made of your natural physical state. Another aspect here is, you also know that you are not the cramp. The momentary presence of the cramp does not turn you into a cramp. There is a distance between you and the cramp, we can call it an observational distance. This distance allows you to take the necessary measures to relieve yourself of the cramp, through applying ointment, a hotpack, a massage, and giving rest and recovery time. (If you became a cramp, what could you do to alleviate the pain?)

We can take this further to apply it with our emotions. When an emotion arises we become aware of it, because it differs from our natural emotional state. Similar to a cramp, the momentary presence of an emotion doesn’t turn you into that emotion. (If that were so, I would be fear right now.) You might think that executing the observational distance would make it difficult to process and work through your emotions. However, the contrary is true. This distance allows you to feel the emotion, understand what is causing it, process it, be compassionate with yourself, then when you are ready: pick yourself up, dust yourself off and respond consciously. 

For example, the thought of writing this blog made me feel afraid. But, because I have internalized that I am not my emotions, I was able to ask “why do I feel afraid?”. All emotions are important. They exist for a reason — to make us aware of what we are feeling. However it is when we expect more from the emotions than it can offer that’s when conflicts arise. As I mention in the A Journey Within blog, “…in a moment of fear we tend to hide behind fear itself, expecting that submission to fear will save us from danger. However, fear does not have the capacity to protect.” 

If I chose to hide behind the fear of doing something different and expressing myself, then this new category and blog would not exist. I worked on understanding why I felt afraid, the reason: we are taught that it is wrong to stray from the herd and being vulnerable is always negative. But I also realized that I don't want to feel this way in regards to my writing. I want to be myself, express myself and be true to my passions of writing. So yes, I was afraid as I started writing and while I was writing, but I also knew that in this case, running away was not the best response to fear. 

The purpose of fear is to make us alert, but after the emotion presents itself, we have to decide how to respond. I’ll share another story:

Last year when I was in India, I traveled on a bus for 6 hours from one city to another. I was alone, I boarded the bus when it was almost dark outside and if I talked, people would know I’m a foreigner. I was scared, obviously I would be, my heart was racing and my body was shaking. If in that moment I submitted to my fear and expected it to protect me, I would have probably freaked out and started crying. But I didn’t, instead I decided to acknowledge the fear, become cautious and make the best choices I knew to protect myself. I stayed awake the entire ride, I put my headphones in (without music playing), I shared my location with the person who was going to pick me up and I was on the map app the entire time (to make sure the bus was following the correct route). 

This practice can be applied to any emotion. But remember, our responses to each situation varies and must be decided in the moment,  depending on what is best for us (while being respectful to others). 

Your response to feeling afraid might be to soldier through, leaving the location or standing up for yourself. Your response to feeling sadness might be to communicate with the person who hurt you, getting a tutor for the subject you’re struggling in or taking a self-care day. Your response to feeling anger might be reaching out to someone you trust to talk with or not spending your effort and time communicating with people who don’t listen to you. Your response to happiness might be being fully present in the moment or sharing your joy with other people. 

Emotions serve the purpose of making us aware so that we can choose our best response, they are never the answer. As I also mention in A Journey Within, choosing a response requires responsibility. It takes effort. And the choice to do so — or not — is entirely up to you (no judgment, only understanding, I promise).

To end this blog, I want to share a practice that works for me, journaling. I journal often to process my emotions or recurring thoughts, perhaps a repressed hurt, betrayal or guilt. By working pen to paper and getting to the root of the problem, I am able to understand myself and my tendencies, then choose a response towards who I want to be.

Proofreader: Kellyn Jeremy