The courage to feel

Quite a lot of people consider me courageous. When they say it, more often than not they think about crazy things I’ve done, such as moving to the UK from Poland in 2006, successfully pitching myself as a UK Country Manager to several Polish software companies two years later with precisely zero experience in business, no cock between my legs (which generally makes moving around in the technology industry easier) and a relatively thick Easter European accent. Then I left an experienced business partner, almost thirty years my senior, and decided to start a company on my own. The honour of being the first employee went to my boyfriend of a year who wasn’t even enthusiastic about the business at first, as he was still mourning the failure of his previous venture (when we started making money though he gladly accepted the cofounder status, along with the equity). Before the second company was born, I even survived one year in London (room rent included, no support from parents, no debts incurred) on the sum of £10,000. The list goes on.

These aren’t things I consider particularly courageous, even though I’m grateful to myself that I chose to go full in as the opportunities presented themselves. I will readily admit though that alongside perseverance, which is definitely a trait I possess, I had a

bit of fool’s luck and early starter’s chutzpah, combined with virtually nothing to lose. I can still do outrageous things today, and derive some satisfaction from it. There’s definitely more to lose these days but I also have the awareness that the end of the day I don’t really own anything - such as resources, money, health, talents, my life even - that wasn’t given, for a while, and at some point will be passed on to those that can make a better use of it. However, I do find myself courageous, for different reasons. If you have a direct or indirect experience of what tends to be branded as “mental health difficulties” (and research shows that at least a third of us do), you may be able to identify with the below, or find it interesting.

As I began to work less and have the capability to spend more time with myself, I have recently chosen to come off antidepressant medication I’ve been taking on and off for twenty years. It definitely helped me to maintain my productivity and to keep the immense pain, fear and confusion I wasn’t ready to face at bay. Am I ready to face it now? I’m not entirely sure one ever is. What I am sure of is that the longing for lost pieces of myself seems greater than the worry of what I must face on the way to find them. From then on, it’s a plunge into the unknown.

From what I know so far, the unclaimed part of me involves sensitivity beyond measure and ability to feel the pain of every even slightly self judgemental thought I have, and even slightest perceived ignorance in the world around me. It also involves excruciating, child like confusion about it all, and the meaning of simply being in my body in this world. It’s only way after the fact, sometimes days or weeks of being with the confusion, that I’m able to put any words to it. When I’m in the middle of a wave I can only stay there and feel it through.

Now that I’ve made a decision to descend into the darkness of my being, I find things there way more terrifying than any smoothly executed Hollywood horror. There’s the pain of not belonging here at all, unless I work super hard to earn that right. There’s desperately wanting to be seen in all that I am and shame about that need (as part of me believes I should be able to hold myself in everything that arises). There’s the awareness of massive chaos that underpins all the neatly constructed social structures, and all parts of my identity I’ve created built to protect me from it.

Why do I choose to go there at all, some of my friends wonder. I do it because otherwise I’ll always feel like I’m choosing to run away from something vital, and live in the shadow of that thing looming over me. Because having the courage to do this seems like the highest expression of love and respect towards myself, even if in the middle of a soul crushing wave of terror, where I have no concept of what love is or if it really exists. I know many others are on this path because it feels meaningful to them, perhaps you are too. This gives me encouragement although what keeps me going is the fundamental craving to meet myself. And that’s also why I these days hesitate to frame this journey as a struggle with “mental health difficulties”. That would imply I have an illness, which for years I believed I did, as it gave me some comfort. Our conditioning seems to imply that unless we’re happily productive throughout our lives, something must be wrong with us. Could craving and pursuing the truth about oneself be an instinct not to trust though? Perhaps there’s no “illness” in me that needs eradicating after all. And perhaps living life in a conscious way involves more courage than I’d ever need to do something outrageous.

I have the courage to feel. And, these days, I also have the courage to stop almost whatever I’m doing, and feel. I’m tired of putting pressure on myself to be productive, successful and socially immaculate on top of the fear that I feel. I long to meet myself on the other side of the backlog of things to process. I also notice that when I try to do several things at the same time, that which takes most courage to do, and produces least immediately visible results you can feel acknowledged for in the outer world, falls to the wayside. This is how I abandon myself. The more I do this, the lesser the chance I will ever find the courage to change this pattern. And to become who I was always meant to be.

Because of my experiences, I’m a massive advocate of supporting mental wellness (for the lack of a better way to refer to it) in the business context. If you’re a founder or a leader in a business, don’t underestimate how much your influence as a mental health and wellness advocate can achieve, lives saved included. In practical terms, this translates to encouraging people to feel what they feel, and go through difficulties in life while being present with what’s going on, even at the expense of work. There will always be work to do whereas, to pick a vivid situation some of my team experienced while working for us, you lose your parent once. The way you are able to show up to support yourself and your family depends, to a meaningful degree, on how much freedom you have (including at work) to focus on the task at hand. Nothing quite as dramatic needs to happen though for someone to be in need of taking a break from regular activities, or reducing their productivity. A couple of years ago a member of the team went through a particularly difficult time while in psychotherapy and needed to take several months off work. Since then, we have secured a particular kind of insurance that allows our team members to take longer amounts of time off for mental health reasons, if they need to. We also have a policy which allows anyone to take time off during the working day, to cope with anxiety and people often use it. Are we worried that people might take advantage of it for illegitimate reasons? Not really. We trust them to manage their affairs, their energy and their workload because nobody else knows how to manage it better. In turn they seem to trust the company not just with their power but also with their vulnerability. I’ll never forget an email a senior colleague sent to the whole team to communicate she’d split up with her long term partner and so needs to reduce her output for a while and asks for support of the team. It was very moving to see her trust and openness. She received an overwhelming amount of encouragement and offers of support in response. I know this is possible not just at GrantTree but in many workplaces around the world. I choose to work towards the future where it will be possible everywhere.

To wrap up, I appreciate myself and all those of you who have the courage to feel. I appreciate people in my life for their presence and making it possible for me to feel things in connection with them. I appreciate the opportunity to know myself through them. And I use the power that I have, as an employer. to make it possible for others to be present for themselves.