Pulled Under
Dealing with Waves of Sadness
Introduction
Sadness comes in waves. And, like waves, sadness can be hard to predict and is impossible to control. Thank you for joining me in today’s Adventure of Reflection as I ponder being pulled under by waves of sadness.
A Minute of Motivation
Let Sorrow Run Its Course
Sorrow is like a river, it flows through you, cutting deep channels in your heart. This river of sadness is painful, and sometimes overwhelming in its power and intensity.
Some people react to sadness with fear – “what if I never stop hurting? What if I can’t handle the pain?” Because of this fear, an attempt may be made to stop the sorrow from flowing, building a dam inside the heart to keep the sorrow from passing through. As sorrow ceases to flow, the feeling of being alive also ceases. As the feeling of being alive ceases, the natural feelings of joy and spontaneous laughter disappear also.
Sorrow is a normal part of being alive. It is not possible to feel joyful all of the time. The price of stifling sorrow is to sacrifice the capability of feeling joy.
The channels cut through the heart by sorrow are the same channels through which joy can flow. The deeper the channels are cut by sorrow the deeper joy can also be.
Let the feelings of your life flow freely through you, the joy as well as the pain. The result will be a greater sense of being alive.
Note. Originally written in 1993 and preserved on dot-matrix paper, published here for the first time.
Enjoy Life More
Ride the Waves
I love waves. Let me be clear. I love waves at the beach. Sometimes I just want to sit at the edge and listen to them. At other times I sit just inside the edge of the waves and let them lift and push me. And, when I am feeling most brave, I walk far enough from the shore to absorb the full impact of the waves.
Sadness is like waves. Sometimes I just want to sit at the edge of my sadness and only listen to it. At other times I sit just inside the edge of my sadness and let it push me around a bit. I am not inclined to walk completely into my sadness and let it hit me at full force.
But the waves of sadness find me anyway. Sometimes I am walking through my day and something hits me and drags me down. A sudden wave of sadness pulls me under. I often don’t know what triggered it. What was I thinking about? What day is it? What is making me sad?
I have learned to listen to the wave as it drags me down. Usually there is a message from my heart to my mind. Rather than fighting to get out of the wave of sadness I let it push me around for a bit, just experiencing it. Sometimes I will write about what I am feeling; at other times I might quietly sing a few lines of a favorite song or hymn.
And then it passes, as mysteriously as it came. In my endeavor to “enjoy life more” it seems I also need to be sad sometimes. The same is probably true for you. Ride the waves of sadness when they come. They don’t stay. Waves will pass.
Faith Corner
“A time to weep and a time to laugh.” Ecclesiastes 3:4.
I have been pondering the poetic section of Solomon’s writings about time. For most of my life I have considered these contrasts of a time for this and a time for that to mean that seasons shift back and forth. Lately, though, I think some of these might be overlapping seasons, or at least interconnected experiences.
Weeping and laughing seem like opposite experiences, but are they? At a recent family funeral, I noticed the prevalence of laughing during the after-funeral luncheon in the church basement. (It was great to see you, Lois!) Having just returned from the cemetery, the family and friends of my aunt gathered for a meal prepared by the loving and faithful hands of the “church ladies.”
During the funeral there was weeping. At the graveside there was weeping. Then, only moments later, there was laughter at the luncheon. One of the people laughing was my uncle, the one who had just lost his wife.
Funerals are times of great loss, absorbed together by the people who are mourning. There is weeping and laughter when those grieving are gathered. The time to weep and the time to laugh is often woven into the same day. Our sorrowful hearts are healed by both.
Dear Lord, thank you for giving us the healing power of weeping and the restorative power of laughing. Help us to live more fully by crying, and laughing, with those we love. Loss is painful, and tears will come. Thank you for drawing us into community with others so we can cry and laugh together. Amen.
Poetry Pause
Waves of Sadness
A wave of sadness
Catches me off guard –
Just an ordinary day,
The tiniest cue
Brings a heavy cascade
Of sadness.
Thinking doesn’t help.
Not thinking doesn’t help.
Trying to stop a wave
Is futile.
And so it comes,
Another wave of sadness,
Pushing tears from my eyes,
And then it passes.
Sometimes a messenger,
Carrying information:
“This hurts me.”
“Here hurts me.”
The wave invited
By circumstance
Or calendar.
Oh, its strength pulls me
Down.
Don’t fight it.
Fighting won’t help.
Just be.
Be in the wave.
Is anyone near?
Reach out.
Steady yourself.
Relax.
Release the tears.
It will pass.
Just a wave.
A wave of sadness.
By Cindy MacGregor, November 16, 2022
Note. I wrote this poem after experiencing a wave of sadness as I drove to work on a day there was a meeting at which I felt no purpose in participating, my role having been destroyed by program closure. The wave brought a message of how my lack of belonging was affecting me. Now the challenge is what to do with that information about myself.
Old Mom to Young Mom
Listen to their Tears
It’s hard to be a parent, but it is also hard to be child. The pain of life is something adults have learned to endure, but children are still learning how to deal with the experiences that hurt them. One of the important jobs of parenting is to help children learn how to deal with their emotions.
Some parents challenge their children to “stop crying” or “get over it.” What does that really teach a child?
Joy and sorrow come so naturally for children. They are easily overjoyed by small things. They are easily over-saddened by small things. Joy and sorrow for children, as also in adults, are wired into the same circuitry.
Adults typically struggle to feel spontaneous joy. What happened to the spontaneous joy of childhood? Was it just that “becoming an adult” meant becoming more aware of the hard parts of life? Or were we taught to shut down our joy unintentionally because we were taught to turn off our tears?
When I am sad I want someone to accept that sadness, not try to “fix it away” or rally me to cheer up. I don’t want to turn off the circuit through which sadness and joy are wired.
It’s hard to be a parent, but it is also hard to be a child. My advice is to listen to your children’s tears and help them learn to process the pain of life, not turn it off. Perhaps the result is an adult life of more spontaneous, child-like joy.
Dear Dr. Mac
After reading The Countdown, Laura wrote:
“This passage stuck with me today. ‘I believe awareness of the limited time on life’s countdown clock creates energy for living, Have you ever noticed the higher level of play after the “two-minute warning” in a football game? The final 24 hours before a flight is similar to the countdown clock running in the background for all of us.’
I have two family members currently in ICU... both battling for their lives. My parents are in bad health. Despite an originally poor prognosis, I am still here. 50% of people with my diagnosis die in the first two years. Only 10% of the remaining are alive 10 years after diagnosis. Death is something we unfortunately talk about more than most 30 year olds in my house. My husband knows how thankful I am to reach each milestone, and complains less than he normally would about the amount of times I drag him and my daughter to take pictures. If I pass, I want her to have those pictures to remember me by. I cherish moments so much more deeply! With a lot of therapy, I have learned to let go of the little things more easily. I do believe there is so much power in recognizing the blip of time we are here on earth and how little time we have left. In our house, that means more days off together and later bedtimes.”
Dear Laura,
Thank you for your poignant description of the precious value of a life when lived during the “two-minute warning.” Your condition has signaled your awareness of “life’s countdown clock” and brought richness into your embrace of the gift of each day. It is such a wonderful, sometimes painful thing, to face our finite condition! But, in that pain and wonder is found great treasure. I am deeply grateful for the circumstances that brought our paths together. Love, Dr. Mac
To My Readers: If you would like to hear what I think about something, or let me know what you are thinking, please send an email to: drcjmacgregor@outlook.com; I will respond via email or in this section of a future newsletter, or both. I hope to hear from you!
Thanks for reading/listening!