How do you deal with Seismic Emotions?

As was explored last time, I’m approaching four years since Chelsea passed, and yet I’ve still got significant emotions that can trigger seismic reactions with little to no warning.

And again, as discussed last time, it’s hard to know how to define progress around processing these emotions. On the one hand, I don’t think I’ll ever fully resolve them, because they seem to be linked with Chelsea’s impact on my life (which will always be present). On the other, I have this suspicion that there’s some work left to be done.

That work may be as simple as waiting, allowing time to turn the volume down on the intensity of my reactions. That has been a successful strategy thus far, as the emotional reactions today are less intense than they were a few years ago. But I also wonder whether I might need to be more intentional about the work.

Early on, I felt that I needed to experience some sort of emotional catharsis in a powerful natural setting; think, shouting into a glacial waterfall, or screaming into a deep canyon. Because the rage I felt at the universe was profound and I needed a setting powerful enough to contain that rage (the old, ‘an immovable object meets and unstoppable force’ mantra).

I bring this up today because I’m about to go on an international trip with one of my best friends, something we try to do every decade. We’ve both been through some rough experiences in the last few years, so the trip is as much an opportunity for reflection as it is upholding tradition.

On my agenda for the trip is a specific location in the mountains of Switzerland; we went there when I was 20, and I still remember the natural power of that location. I remember standing at the base of this massive waterfall, getting sprayed by the mist, feeling a sense awe at the power of the setting. There’s a part of me that, ever since Chelsea died, has wanted to return to that location and create space for the sort of emotional catharsis described above.

And yet, I have no idea how I will respond.

I can see one scenario where I get there and feel compelled to scream and cry for 30 minutes, unleashing the rage that I’ve been holding onto for a couple of years. That’s the powerful catharsis I envisioned early on.

But I can also see a scenario where I get there and feel a sense of peace and calm. That, by the way, is what initially happened when I tried to work out my anger in the pool. I thought that, getting into the pool, going underwater, and screaming during my workouts would be a great venue for releasing my rage at the universe. That never happened; instead, the pool became a place of calm, reflection, and peace for me, almost a secular version of church. It wasn’t that the anger wasn’t there, it just didn’t manifest in the way I thought it might. Which of course raises the question of how, or if, that anger will ever present itself in a cathartic setting.

And then of course there’s option C, which is the unknown emotional reaction that is neither option A or option B…

So that’s the big question heading into the trip. As I discussed last time, it’s really hard to predict how I will respond to certain events, so I’ll report back on how it goes.

On a more positive note, this will be my first international trip in over a decade (Covid, parenting, and grief have complicated my travel schedule as of late), and I’m starting to get really excited. Each time I’ve taken a big trip abroad, I’ve reached some sort of conclusion about life: when I was younger, I learned that the world is a lot smaller than I thought, and that there are good people everywhere; I’ve learned that there are multiple ways to live your life beyond what I’d been told growing up in America; I’ve learned that spending your life with a great partner can be much more fulfilling than spending life alone; and I’ve learned that uncertainty, disruption, and difference can be powerful learning opportunities.

So again, I’m really looking forward to some separation from the daily routine and spending some time in thought/reflection with one of my best friends. The Euros also start this weekend, so that will be a nice bonus (there’s nothing quite like watching a European football competition in Europe).

Here’s to the unknown and hopefully cathartic experience of international travel…