Crying With Strangers : The Power of Expressing Emotions in a Group
For many of us, the idea of expressing emotions in front of anyone - even our partner or best friend - can seem horrifying. So why would I purposefully open up about my rage, grief, and fear about what is happening in the world in front of a bunch of strangers?
I was taking part in a workshop for the Work That Reconnects, and we had moved through the first part of the spiral - Gratitude - into the second part: Honouring our Pain.
Joanna Macy, creator of the Work That Reconnects, recognised that our society seems to have an almost pathological avoidance of pain and suffering. We spend vast amounts of our time, energy and money on pursuing happiness, as well as on staying young and beautiful (to avoid thinking about our mortality) and on distracting or numbing ourselves from the things that cause us pain. What might happen if we freed up this energy?
One of the exercises often used in this section is the Truth Mandala - a space where everyone is invited to step forward, to pick up an object to represent a feeling (anger, fear, numbness, or grief) and to say what is on their mind. The others don’t say anything - they just listen.
How we learn to deal with emotions
How do you react when someone expresses a strong emotion in front of you? If the other person is upset, most people usually rush to comfort them - we might give them a tissue, touch them on the arm, and tell them that things aren’t really so bad and that everything will be OK.
But when you’re worrying about the future of life on the planet, being told to “focus on the positives” can seem insulting or belittling. We might learn, from a friend’s well-meaning words of comfort, that our tears are not welcome in public. We might decide that other people don’t really understand our worries, and instead we decide to keep things quiet.
Anger is another example - people generally feel uncomfortable in the presence of anger, and so will react with silence or avoidance. From a young age, many of us learnt that expressing our anger was unwelcome, so we bottled it up. Of course, there’s a fine line between safely allowing someone to be angry and to express their feelings, and allowing yourself to be verbally abused - so we should never resent people for not allowing us to express our anger when they are simply trying to set their own boundaries and protect themselves.
And as for grief - that is certainly not an emotion that is considered appropriate to express in public… In some cultures, people are expected to cry and wail at funerals, but the ones I’ve been to in Britain are sombre affairs when even mourning over a loved one is done quietly. I’ve had plenty of experiences where I’ve mentioned the loss of a loved one to others, and have instantly felt people freeze up with panic at how to respond appropriately. They normally mumble “I’m sorry” and try to shift the topic onto something else very quickly.
With all of that in mind, it’s no wonder that the majority of people don’t feel that they can really be themselves or express the way they’re feeling - which may be partly responsible for the rising numbers of depression and anxiety. Having people that we can authentically connect to, be fully ourselves with, and speak what’s on our mind without fear of judgement is vital for our wellbeing.
And when you’re worrying about the world ending…
Statistics show that more and more young people are worried about the future of the planet, and for good reason: a look at the IPCC report, or similar scientific predictions, does not paint the most optimistic picture. But what’s worse is not having a space to discuss those findings - to air them out with people who might be more experienced or knowledgeable, or who will listen to your fear with compassion.
Imagine this - you’re a young person who has never before lived through a time of great adversity (like a World War or global pandemic), and suddenly you’re told that the environment probably won’t be able to support human life by the time you grow up. And even if it does, now there’s COVID-19 to worry about. And if that doesn’t get us, then the rise of artificial intelligence and robots is sure to wipe us out. Not only are you hearing all of this, but when you try to express how you’re feeling, you’re told “Oh, it’s not that bad, don’t worry”. It feels like nobody else is worrying, or nobody else cares.
I hadn’t realised how much this was affecting me until I stepped into the Truth Mandala. We were invited to speak, one by one, to whatever emotions reared their heads - but there was no pressure to “force” grief, anger or fear, of course. If we wanted to, we could just listen.
Into the Truth Mandala
One by one, people started to open up about what they were feeling. Fear that their children would not be able to grow old. Anger that people didn’t seem to care about the environment and were still flying around as if nothing mattered. Numbness as they found themselves watching TV as a distraction. Grief over every part of our beautiful planet that we would lose.
Although I had only known these people for a few hours, I already felt as if I knew them more closely, more deeply, than I know some of the people who have been in my life for years. And because there was no need to respond - because we were meant to do nothing but listen, whole-heartedly, I was able to really hear them - without the usual inner dialogue that starts to think about how to best respond or what to say next. Their words resonated with me deeply, and I felt at once that we were a circle of kindred souls, stepping into a sacred ritual together.
When I spoke, I immediately started crying. I cried over the fact that I don’t know when I can safely return home and see my parents, over my fears of COVID, over those general feelings of confusion over what my future might look like and whether or not I will be able to live safely. I cried over all of those who are already suffering so much - over all the injustices and horrors of the world. I grieved for the forests, for the indigenous people who are displaced and abused, and for everything that they have lost; for the general loss of connection to nature that so many of us feel. I raged over politicians and their greed, and I expressed the numbness that I often feel when I try to forget about it all.
After a while, I felt that I had said everything that was on my mind. And looking back at me was a sea of faces - several of them still wet with their own tears. Their silence held me more powerfully than any words of comfort could ever manage.
After an hour, where everyone had shared their feelings, we stayed in silence for a long time. Light music allowed us to retreat into our own worlds for a while, whether to meditate, write, draw, or do whatever else felt right.
How did I feel after that? Was I horrified about being vulnerable with strangers? Did I feel embarrassed? Quite the opposite. I started to feel more alive than I had for weeks. And after the session was over, I was jumping and dancing and singing around my house, full of life. There is something about being truly heard, having your feelings about the world validated, and recognising that so many others share your feelings that really allows the life force to flow freely again.
It is after this core part of the Work That Reconnects that we are invited to recognise that most of our pain comes from concern for things outside ourselves, and so from this we start to recognise just how interconnected we truly are to all of life. From here, we start to see with new eyes…
Sharing Circles
I wonder how much more powerfully we could move forward as a society if we created spaces to safety express our grief. Imagine if, after a traumatic event, societies got together to process what had happened collectively - instead of being expected to deal with it alone, or with a therapist. How much do we internalise the trauma and horrors of the world, when they are, in fact, collective issues that should be dealt with collectively?
Fortunately, the idea is catching on - for example, in the form of Climate Circles as well as Extinction Rebellion’s Empathy Circles, as well as through Work That Reconnects workshops, you can find out whether this practice of sharing and listening works for you.
Of course, the idea of the sharing circle is nothing new - we must be careful not to culturally appropriate. Many indigenous communities in Turtle Island (aka North America) have used sharing circles for centuries as a form of decision-making and reconciliation in order to make sure that everybody is heard, and several other societies throughout the world have had some form of system in which communities come together (often around a circle) to discuss their grievances. Rather than proposing this as a revolutionary new idea, we need to ask - why aren’t we doing this any more?
If you’re interested in trying the Work That Reconnects, I’m co-facilitating a weekend retreat in the Czech Republic from September 18-20th. Alternatively, check https://workthatreconnects.org/events/ for a full list of upcoming events.
Want to work with me?
I’m currently accepting new one-to-one clients who want to:
Find clarity on their soul’s calling
Build a business, organisation or project to benefit the world
Shift their mindset and step into their true power
Develop confidence and self-love
Prepare emotionally and practically for climate collapse
