Learn how to embrace the rainbow of emotions

Situation No. 1: When I turned 65, I signed up for my “Welcome to Medicare” appointment. My doc would conduct a bumper-tobumper inspection of all my parts, determining what I might need as I moved into the latter half of my sixties.

Being the type of person who can worry about anything, I was — well, of course — worried. It’s just what I do. Sure, I’ve never been this old before and that’s unnerving. But, in support of my paranoia, both my parents died too early; my father at 70, my mother at 74. Since the 70s are a hop, skip and a jump away, I’ve become even more anxious with each day that passes. Finally, to season the stew, I have a few aches and pains that cause me consternation.

Like I said, I was worried.

Since I believe the universe responds to what we feel, bringing more of it, I needed to replace that sense of foreboding with something to which I can look forward.

Situation No. 2: For the last several years, my wife and I have talked about each of us getting a tattoo. Being professional, practiced practitioners of procrastination, neither of us have moved beyond the conceptual stage and — full disclosure — we’re not even sure why the idea surfaced. Yet there it is, waiting to be checked off from our collective bucket list.

Of course, being my wife and I, we’ve been putting it off, using the excuse that we don’t know what designs we would want. Sure, we were able to eliminate some ideas. For example, my wife put the kabash on my suggestion that she get across her chest a large tattoo of a pirate ship, sails fully extended, cannons firing, as it navigated an ocean of toothy giant sea serpents. (I was joking, of course. I knew adding sea serpents would be over the top.)

Anyhow, I decided that when I got a positive bill of health, I would finally move forward and get a tattoo as an affirmation of said good wellbeing. I reached out to a Gen-X friend of mine who is adorned with several.

With her recommendation in tow and she as my emotional support human, I met with the artist and settled on a customized design of a small sea tortoise with an “Om” on its back, a symbol that to me represented persistence, strength, peace, and spirituality. (It would be fighting sea serpents of course.)

Situation No. 3: We are guardians to four animals — three cats and one dog. Our eldest cat, Tiger, is “getting up there” and we’ve been on a roller coaster about his health for the last couple of years. Some nights we sadly discuss plans for life postTiger, only to have him shock us come sunrise with a series of boisterous meows and a seemingly renewed joie de vivre. Yet,

despite our best efforts, on the day I was scheduled to get my tattoo, it truly seemed like he would be transitioning to the Great Mystery.

I was torn.

My tattoo was a celebration of life, a reminder to look forward with festive anticipation. While at the exact same moment, I was grieving Tiger’s pending passing. Finding it difficult to reconcile the two, I considered canceling the tattoo, figuring another time would be more appropriate and also not wanting to associate it here on out with the loss of my cat.

But, isn’t that the way life is?

We mistakenly assume we can compartmentalize our emotions — happy or sad, positive or negative, content or annoyed. Yet, that’s not how the world works. It’s entirely possible — actually “likely” — that which we label “good” or “bad” do not queue up, taking turns making themselves known, patiently waiting for their turns. They can and do both exist in the same sphere at the same time; it is our focus that changes. “Bittersweet” is an example

of an emotion embracing both with equal fervor.

Too often, we put aside joy because of sadness. We delay our happiness until it’s more “appropriate.” Yet, that’s not how we work. Learning how to embrace the rainbow of emotions — rather than separate the colors — allows us to experience fuller, more satisfying, enriching lives. More so, denying happiness does nothing to lessen sadness. Ironically, it amplifies it.

Situation Current: Tiger rebounded; it appears the roller coaster has not lost steam. I have a tattoo on my right forearm. I’m getting past the “itchy” part and starting to be able to appreciate it. My wife seems a bit more inclined to move forward with a tattoo but she still refuses to consider sea serpents. (Sigh … sometimes, she has no sense of adventure.)

Scott “Q” Marcus is the CRP (Chief Recovering Perfectionist) of www. ThisTimeIMeanIt.com and has helped thousands of people and organizations make their intentions match their outcomes. He is available for coaching, workshops and keynotes via his website or by email at scottq@thistimeimeanit.com.