Is it OK to get angry at work?

How about scared? Or anxious? Or ashamed?

Does being buoyant mean that you make yourself immune from emotions that get in the way of connection and productivity?

Listening to an episode of the podcast The Telepathy Tapes, I was struck by a comment made by a therapist who works with profoundly autistic children and their families.

Caregivers have to juggle the needs of their autistic kids with their other children, with their careers, with their love lives, with their own self-care — it’s a lot.

Sometimes too much.

And so those caregivers can feel resentful, or depressed, or terrified.

And then they feel ashamed or guilty for having those feelings, and so try to deny or suppress them.

And that’s where the problem compounds.

As one child explained to their parents, “I don’t care how you feel. I care that you know how you feel.”

In other words, the primary emotions aren’t a problem when they’re acknowledged and held cleanly.

You’re furious? Cool. Feel it fully.

But you’re furious and you feel that you aren’t allowed to have that feeling? Then it leaks out, and you become untrustworthy.

It’s the Secondary Emotion that Does the Damage

Primary emotions — your responses to your perceptions of your external and internal environments — aren’t the problem.

You can be angry with someone without causing damage.

But when you’re so uncomfortable with your anger that you mask it with pleasantness while seething underneath — that’s toxic.

You can feel fear without acting out fight or flight or freeze or fawn.

When you’re unwilling to admit that you’re afraid, and you hide it behind bravado — that’s destabilizing to the people around you.

A Screeching Feedback Loop

The secondary emotion — how you feel about your primary emotion — is the thing that gets you into trouble.

Because when the secondary emotion arises from an unwillingness to acknowledge and feel the primary emotion, you’re in a real bind.

Instead of aversion to something that’s happening to you, you’ve now developed an aversion to the workings of your own mind.

Imagine a microphone connected to a loudspeaker that’s blasting sound back into the microphone.

That’s your mind when it becomes scared of itself — a screeching feedback loop that drowns out every useful signal.

Fear is a natural response to a perceived threat.

But when you’re unwilling to feel that fear, you experience fear of your fear.

And fear of your fear feels even worse than fear, so it’s natural to fear that.

The feedback loop has a name: anxiety. Unlike fear, it has no target or direct antecedent; it just floats in your field because it’s always there.

And the same is true for anger, or sadness, or any other emotion that you do not tolerate and feel fully.

A False Dichotomy

I’m not saying that you should act on your emotions. It’s not a choice of “repress your anger” or “express your anger.”

This has nothing to do with behavior. It has everything to do with your capacity to be present to your own experience.

You do not have to swallow your feelings. In fact, only through feeling them can you metabolize them into the wisdom to act.

The Wisdom Way

When you allow anger or fear or sadness to course through you, you’re simply respecting that emotion as a useful piece of intelligence.

Anger says, “Someone or something is violating a boundary of yours.”

Wisdom asks, “What’s the boundary, and do I need to defend it?”

Fear says, “There’s danger here.”

Wisdom asks, “What am I protecting?”

Sadness says, “You’ve lost something precious.”

Wisdom asks, “What have I lost, and what does that loss tell me about what I love?”

After sitting with the wisdom questions, you may act. Or not.

What’s important is that you stop running away from the feeling long enough to hear what it’s trying to tell you.

That autistic child had the measure of it. Your feeling isn’t the problem. Everything you do to avoid it — is.

Your Mission

This week, pick one emotion you've been unwilling to fully feel at work.

Not act on. Just feel.

Notice what it's telling you, and notice what your default response has been.

Then take a breath, and take a moment to ask the wisdom question, without requiring or expecting an answer.

Notice if anything shifts inside you. What options are now available to you?

I was listening recently to an episode of the podcast, The Telepathy Tapes, and I was struck by a comment made by a therapist who works with profoundly autistic children and their families. The caregivers have to juggle the needs of their autistic kids with their other children, with their careers, with their love lives, with their own self-care.

I care that you know how you feel." In other words, the primary emotions aren't a problem when they're acknowledged and held cleanly. You're furious? Cool. Feel it fully. But you're furious, and you feel you aren't allowed to have that feeling? Then it leaks out, and you become untrustworthy. It's that secondary emotion that does the damage.

You can feel fear without acting out fight or flight or freeze or fawn. But when you're unwilling to admit that you're afraid and you hide it behind bravado, that's destabilizing to the people around you. That secondary emotion, how you feel about your primary emotion, is the thing that gets you into trouble.

Because when that secondary emotion arises from an unwillingness to acknowledge and feel the primary emotion, you're in a real bind. Instead of aversion to something that's happening to you, you've now developed an aversion to the workings of your own mind. Imagine a microphone connected to a loudspeaker that's blasting sound back right into the microphone.

And the feedback loop has a name: anxiety. Unlike fear, it has no target or direct antecedent. It just floats in your field because it's always there. And the same is true for anger or sadness or any other emotion that you do not tolerate and feel fully. It ends up causing this screeching feedback loop.

In fact, only through feeling them can you metabolize them into the wisdom to act. So when you allow anger or fear or sadness to course through you, you're simply respecting those emotions as a useful piece of intelligence. Anger says someone or something is violating a boundary of yours. Wisdom asks, "What's the boundary, and do I need to defend it?"

Fear says there's danger here. Wisdom asks, "What am I protecting?" Sadness says you've lost something precious. Wisdom asks, "What have I lost, and what does that loss tell me about what I love?" After sitting with the wisdom questions, you may act or not. What's important is that you stop running away from the feeling long enough to hear what it's trying to tell you.

And notice if anything shifts inside you. What options are now available to you? I'm Dr. Howie Jacobson. If you'd like to talk about how you and your team can become more buoyant leaders, reach out to me, howiejacobson.com.