Emotions *are* like babies in that you can't just lock them in the boot of your car but you shouldn't let them drive either. They are your beloved passengers! Let them look around and point things out to you that you won't always notice yourself while keeping your eyes on the road. Bring snacks!
Feeling and respecting fear is such an important journey. We fear fear. But fear can be a surprisingly safe place to be when (if you're not in immediate danger and you're able to) you let yourself sit in it, hold your own hand, and listen to it. Fear always comes from somewhere. Whether it's your childhood, things that are happening in the world around you, or a rash choice you just made. It teaches us so much.
Wow. I will be re-reading this post for days; there is SO much that resonates. The crux is:
"Inside your mind, in the folds of your storytelling about the world, everything that hurts you has to be declared BAD or else YOU ARE BAD." Ten years into becoming aware of and trying to get away from such black-or-white thinking, I still have trouble sometimes. A lot of times. Thank you for reminding me that it's shame. That pesky little varmint at the root of so much that my big baby fucks up.
This hit in the best way funny on the surface, but there’s a deeper truth under it too. Owning that messy, emotional part of ourselves takes real courage… especially when the world keeps telling us to “toughen up.” We’re exploring a lot of that in Storm-Side Chronicles too, the parts we were told to hide, and what happens when we finally let them speak. Appreciate the honesty in your work. 🙏
'Shame says that if you put gentle boundaries around what your baby is allowed to do, you’re stifling your baby’s joy. Shame says that anyone who hurts your baby is evil.'
Oddly, I have a persistent memory of a small, almost non-incident from years ago. I was on a Tube platform in London, and the parents of a toddler were walking him along the empty platform. The toddler was clearly tired and cranky, and kept wailing and pulling his hand away from his parents' and staggering in unsteady circles close to the platform edge. His mum and dad made hopeless, "what can we do?" gestures at each other as their boy came within inches of falling onto the tracks.
The train roared in, and the boy didn't fall. But I've never forgotten the emotions of the moment, as two adults quite literally failed to put gentle boundaries around their baby. They refused to hold his hand tightly, I believe, because they felt that that would in some way make them cruel parents. Stifling him.
So why didn't I rush over and pick up the boy, take him back to safety? I wish I had. But it was because I knew - or strongly suspected - the parents would be outraged. They would've reacted as if I was hurting their baby. To my shame, I just let it all happen in front of me. I prioritised my feeling blameless over the safety of a child obviously in danger.
Polly, in this column I feel you've said more about the anatomy of shame, its aetiology, than before, and I'm very grateful. I feel I understand better the meaning of 'What If This Were Enough?' You write, 'Feeling vulnerable is an everyday occurrence that does not need to be corrected, analyzed, or avoided.'
The drama of the baby is what we so often enact within ourselves. Both the parents and the baby are parts of us. But we are paralysed, we are scared to act to keep ourselves safe. Something MUST be wrong with me! We both stagger along blindly, driven by strong emotions into dangerous places, AND we can't be adult enough to save our vulnerable self. Because we're not fully THERE; in these situations we are onlookers to our own lives, because our culture, with its myriad expectations, teaches us to be. We internalise the expectations, then measure ourselves, and find that we fall short; measure, fall short; measure, fail. Shame takes over and we remain alienated from ourselves, still clutching the yardstick.
Emotions *are* like babies in that you can't just lock them in the boot of your car but you shouldn't let them drive either. They are your beloved passengers! Let them look around and point things out to you that you won't always notice yourself while keeping your eyes on the road. Bring snacks!
Feeling and respecting fear is such an important journey. We fear fear. But fear can be a surprisingly safe place to be when (if you're not in immediate danger and you're able to) you let yourself sit in it, hold your own hand, and listen to it. Fear always comes from somewhere. Whether it's your childhood, things that are happening in the world around you, or a rash choice you just made. It teaches us so much.
You're not too much. You're just not edited yet.
You don’t need to stop being a big baby. You just need to stop handing the baby the car keys.
Let love speak, but not decide. Let anger burn, but not build the house.
Hold both. Wait longer. Say less.
Discernment isn't disloyalty. Hesitation isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom.
You’re not here to pick good vs. evil. You’re here to stay awake.
Stay soft. Stay sane. Don’t confuse emotion with truth.
And please, put the sword down. You’ve already won.
Wow. I will be re-reading this post for days; there is SO much that resonates. The crux is:
"Inside your mind, in the folds of your storytelling about the world, everything that hurts you has to be declared BAD or else YOU ARE BAD." Ten years into becoming aware of and trying to get away from such black-or-white thinking, I still have trouble sometimes. A lot of times. Thank you for reminding me that it's shame. That pesky little varmint at the root of so much that my big baby fucks up.
Every column I read opens my mind a little bit more. Thank you!
This hit in the best way funny on the surface, but there’s a deeper truth under it too. Owning that messy, emotional part of ourselves takes real courage… especially when the world keeps telling us to “toughen up.” We’re exploring a lot of that in Storm-Side Chronicles too, the parts we were told to hide, and what happens when we finally let them speak. Appreciate the honesty in your work. 🙏
So good
I love this Polly! Both the beautiful message and the form.
Good stuff! Thanks
Wonderful, Polly! It is so refreshing to read your responses to people. This one reminds me of this fabulous song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FcgPLCtYwM&list=RD6FcgPLCtYwM&start_radio=1
This really struck a chord:
'Shame says that if you put gentle boundaries around what your baby is allowed to do, you’re stifling your baby’s joy. Shame says that anyone who hurts your baby is evil.'
Oddly, I have a persistent memory of a small, almost non-incident from years ago. I was on a Tube platform in London, and the parents of a toddler were walking him along the empty platform. The toddler was clearly tired and cranky, and kept wailing and pulling his hand away from his parents' and staggering in unsteady circles close to the platform edge. His mum and dad made hopeless, "what can we do?" gestures at each other as their boy came within inches of falling onto the tracks.
The train roared in, and the boy didn't fall. But I've never forgotten the emotions of the moment, as two adults quite literally failed to put gentle boundaries around their baby. They refused to hold his hand tightly, I believe, because they felt that that would in some way make them cruel parents. Stifling him.
So why didn't I rush over and pick up the boy, take him back to safety? I wish I had. But it was because I knew - or strongly suspected - the parents would be outraged. They would've reacted as if I was hurting their baby. To my shame, I just let it all happen in front of me. I prioritised my feeling blameless over the safety of a child obviously in danger.
Polly, in this column I feel you've said more about the anatomy of shame, its aetiology, than before, and I'm very grateful. I feel I understand better the meaning of 'What If This Were Enough?' You write, 'Feeling vulnerable is an everyday occurrence that does not need to be corrected, analyzed, or avoided.'
The drama of the baby is what we so often enact within ourselves. Both the parents and the baby are parts of us. But we are paralysed, we are scared to act to keep ourselves safe. Something MUST be wrong with me! We both stagger along blindly, driven by strong emotions into dangerous places, AND we can't be adult enough to save our vulnerable self. Because we're not fully THERE; in these situations we are onlookers to our own lives, because our culture, with its myriad expectations, teaches us to be. We internalise the expectations, then measure ourselves, and find that we fall short; measure, fall short; measure, fail. Shame takes over and we remain alienated from ourselves, still clutching the yardstick.