“I’m sorry you feel ____.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way.”

“What will make you feel better?”

I have heard phrases like these all my life. I think most of us have. Sentiments said by caring, well-meaning people who truly want to see us happy.

Sometimes it works. We feel better. At least temporarily.

More often, we bury the feeling that is so uncomfortable (uncomfortable to those well-meaning others as well as to ourselves), and the feeling grows and festers. Frustration grows to anger and then to rage. Sadness grows to grief. Unexpressed rage and grief grow to depression. And so on.

People often speak of certain emotions as being good or bad. Or that some are right and others wrong.

We try to make the “bad/wrong” ones go away – in ourselves or in others – by “thinking a happy thought,” thinking of others who “have it worse,” “bucking up,” and so on.

While it’s not good to wallow in emotions and give them control of how we experience life, all emotions are teachers, and when they are accepted and understood, they can inform us of ways to have a better life than we would have by ignoring them or “fixing them.” No emotion is bad or wrong, but many are uncomfortable (as the truth often is).

Recently I’ve come to a liberating awakening about a feeling that has ebbed and flowed as background and foreground in my life since pre-adolescence. I’ve been diagnosed by several psychiatrists over the past 45 years as “clinically, chronically” depressed, and prescribed various medications which I always opted not to take. (Please note: I do NOT advise avoiding medical advice! Research deeper and get a second opinion if you aren’t comfortable with it, but don’t ignore it!)

In its worst depths, I was suicidal. It wasn’t that I wanted to die, it’s that I was afraid and unsure how to live. But I was intensely curious about life, and that curiosity saved me. It enabled me to go on and to function.

I have always felt that my depression, since it was not so severe that it incapacitated me on a daily, moment-to-moment basis, was an opportunity to grow and learn something about my core self and psyche and soul, if I could only learn its language.

So I have sat with the emotional, physical and spiritual pain of it. I have listened.

At times, it has all but disappeared, leaving only a faint whisper reminding me of its presence. I was neither happy nor unhappy, emotionally alive or dead.

At other times, it has been a pit bull gnawing on the bone of my well-being and snarling at anything that smacked of joy and life.

And still other times, it was a vast dark pit – a wormhole into a deep void that was simultaneously both inviting and scary.

And there have also been times when it has been asleep or on vacation and I have had brief experiences of what I think is true happiness. I can’t be sure. That’s the nature of this omnipresent shadow.

I can tell you that the pit bull and the wormhole are better than being the undead. There is more aliveness and hope in the anger and the fear.

The liberating awakening that has finally emerged through this process is a sense that the depression, debilitating as it can be, is not truly depression at all, though it has many of the signs and symptoms. Once I accept it, understand its language, begin to learn what it had been trying to teach me, I realize that it is something quite different…

… a sacred sadness.

It is not here to stop me from having a life but to teach me a different way of life. It is a deeply vulnerable, empathic experience of intimacy with my own feelings and also the feelings of others.

Some Native American tribes have a phrase they use in many of their ceremonies to honor all who have come before, are present now, and are yet to come: “All my relations” (mitakuye oyasin). This is a term of reverence and reminder that we are all related as one people, and interrelated in the web of life. I have come to see that my sadness is a thread of that web. It is not depression unless I live it as such.

Each of us carries our own thread. Some of us are called to be a thread of joy; some a thread of shadow; some a thread of leadership. There are many threads and each one is sacred because each one plays a part in the weaving of humanity’s tapestry.

Of course, we all have pieces of every thread woven into our own, but I believe we each have a primary thread that is prevalent throughout our lives. Accepted and understood, it opens the way to our greatness and personal “superpower.” Ignored, it becomes our greatest enemy and downfall, our kryptonite.

Mine happens to be sadness. I carry a sadness for all people who have been hurt, wounded, saddened, isolated by their experiences in life, whether real or perceived. Knowing this frees my compassion and understanding. It allows me to know when and how I can be more available and when I need to take care of myself. It makes me a better coach, partner, friend. Embracing sadness frees my joy.

Seeing that, finally, has led to an immense liberation. I see how my relationships have been affected by my blindness to this thread or my fear of it. I see how my career has been both led by it and thrown off course by my reaction to it or self-preservation from it. Even my perception of who I am, my self-esteem, self-worth, self-care and self-respect have been affected by how well or poorly I reacted to it.

Among the many overall benefits of awakening to and accepting the sacred thread of your primary, underlying emotional energy include:

• Your awareness of all your other feelings improves;

• With that awareness, your ability to learn from your feelings and use them for a better life also improves;

• Your capacity to feel and express love and joy expands;

• Your boundaries improve;

• Your energy blossoms (it is VERY stressful, wearying and fruitless to deny, ignore or fight with this intrinsic part of yourself!);

• Your clarity for making better choices improves – in relationships, career, life;

• What hat weighed you down in life now lifts you up.

The thread does not go away – it is not supposed to. I will always have sadness. But now for the most part I have the sadness, it doesn’t have me.

Maybe you see yourself caught in an emotion or thought that seems to weigh you down or slow you down. If this speaks to you in any way and you’d like to have a conversation about it, contact me here.

Fire illuminates and heats. It is unbiased – it will illuminate a lie as easily as a truth. But in the heat, lies melt like lead and truth is tempered like steel. Whatever doesn’t stand up to the fire in your soul, is it truly yours?

The Moon came full at 1:06pm EST today, March 5, with the energy to help all who asked her grow in their personal power. Mmm, yes, I’ve had enough, I surrender, I need some help.

But if you’re going to ask something, it’s simple respect to give something. So I wanted to give the moon a fire ceremony. It’s cold and snowy here on the Connecticut shore, with a blanket of clouds covering a waveless, slushy sea. I knew that when Luna rose, she would not be able to see herself and would likely feel the icy slap of winter. I think that when you are full of life and at your most glorious state of being, you should be able to see yourself and you should feel warm. I prepared to honor her with at least that, even if only symbolically.

This particular full moon carries the energy of expanding personal power to anyone willing to receive it. A fire ceremony is about receiving something you wish to attract or releasing something you wish to let go of. I’m thinking if Moon wants to give, I’m good with receiving. So at 1:06 I made an object of beauty that symbolized what I wanted to attract.

An earlier meditation made it clear to me that there are a certain five people who are seeking freedom from emotional, creative and life-dulling stuckness – BUT they don’t know it! That’s what I do, and I have five places available for them. This stood out for me because I rarely get such specific images or messages about work in my meditations. Yet I was being told to ask the Moon, via the fire, specifically for five people. I drew images of these five on a piece of paper to burn as an intention.

Low tide here was at 4:44pm. Three 4s represent creativity, self-expression and focus on the task at hand. Powerful stuff, given the focus of the ceremony! Right at 4:44 I started building a cairn, as I’ve been doing daily for 124 consecutive days. This one would serve as the altar for the ceremony.

Moonrise today was at 5:55pm. Three 5s represent family and adventure. Again, pretty powerful, since I was seeking new people for my tribe and I’m in the process of creating retreats and other adventurous experiences. At precisely 5:55 I began the ceremony with drumming and prayer. The moment I lit the fire, the breeze went still. The flame was safe and soon friendly.

I won’t describe the whole ceremony here – my ceremonies really have to be experienced, not described. You can’t savor the flavors or feel a nourishing satisfaction from someone’s description of a good meal. But as it ended, I washed my head and neck with the frigid waters of Long Island Sound, where the ice floes can be seen from space, and howled at a Moon I could not see. I surrendered, I asked. Now, it’s back to work. The tempering doesn’t happen by itself.

I was blessed to take a nice break today with a walk in the woods. Even though it is Sunday, I was playing hookey, really – I had that much to do. But instead I enjoyed a little “shinrin-yoku,” which literally translates from the Japanese into “forest bath.” I went to one of my favorite sacred areas and spent part of the time in a brisk walk of three-plus miles, and part of the time creating a ceremony to honor and call forth Spiritual Warrior Energy on behalf of the Earth and all of us.

As I walked in search of a ceremony spot, I inhaled cool, crisp, sun-soaked air, and with it the unmistakable earthy-scented early Autumn decay of those fresh-fallen leaves that crunched and crackled beneath my sneakered feet. I wandered off-trail into the wood, following where I felt led to go, deeper and deeper until I came to a cathedral of trees growing like spires in a circle, with fallen logs scattered aground like random pews.

In the Southwest of the circle stood one fairly ordinary tree that for no apparent reason compelled my attention to it. I approached it cautiously, fully cognizant of the sporadic outcroppings of poison ivy, to which I am highly allergic. I would have avoided the area because of this, but for some reason this year I have determined to respect the plant rather than fear it. I did get “stung” once this year, in July, but it was mild and brief – rare for me if I’m exposed. Usually I burst into a conflagration of welts and burning itch if I have even the slightest exposure. Maybe it prefers my respect to my fear.

I made my way to the tree and made gasho – bowed reverently – as I stood before it. I had a purpose for being here, after all, and I wanted the help of the forest and her spirits. My intent, I told the tree, was to both honor and elicit the Energy of the Spiritual Warrior, and to do so I came prepared to build an apachete (altar) and offer a ceremony. I had brought a few stones, some corn and copal, a spearhead and a feather. On the way to this cathedral spot, I gathered a few more pieces of nature that seemed appropriate. Finally I gathered a few things from the immediate area that seemed eager to participate.

And so slowly, methodically, intentionally, meticulously and open-heartedly, I began building the apachete. The tree was in the Southwest of the circle; in some traditions this is the pathway from the emotional to the physical aspects of life. I chose a spot in the sun – Ra, Sol, Phoebus… sun gods who bring life and light to the Earth and all who live here. The foundation stone was placed first, then the feather – a sort of prayer flag, icon, relic – at the front of the altar. The feather is turkey, symbolic of giving away freely and receiving graciously, which are traits of a warrior in service to something greater than his/her own desires.

Next, a column of stone was built toward the sun. A sculpture of balance, it could be thought of as a cairn – a symbol of direction and change of direction. To the South was placed the spearhead – a weapon of provision and protection – and to the north, a heart stone – an anti-weapon of compassion and understanding.

An assortment of stones were gathered as a community, as witness, as army, as village – as all who serve the warrior’s need and all who are served by the warrior’s valor. Then within this village were placed five smooth stones. David gathered five smooth stones from a river as his only arsenal against Goliath, and ultimately only needed one to slay the foe. Each of us has our symbolic five smooth stones within us – which one shall you choose to gain victory over whatever it is that would stop your aliveness from its fullest expression?

Anyway, finally the apachete was adorned with the beauty and softness of nature’s cashmere, ferns – essential to bring balance and grace to the sharp, firm edges of the warrior on alert. It was all made sacred with the blessings of corn (abundance) and copal (clarity and protection). Prayers were said. Songs were sung.

And to end the ceremony, the poison ivy, who takes no sides and makes no judgments, was honored as protector and defender of the sacred nature of the warrior’s soul, where intent and heartfulness dwell. It is intent and heart, after all, that differentiate the warrior, soldier and fighter. Each have their place, but this ceremony, this altar is to honor the warrior, the Spiritual Warrior who serves body, mind and spirit for the highest good of all life.

I left in peace and strength, vibrant from the power and love that radiated from this experience. It is good to show up for such things and to bring one’s self fully to what is being asked of him or her in the moment.