The Emotional Pillar
What We Get Wrong About Controlling Our Emotions—and What to Build Instead
The door flew open and rattled on its hinges as it slammed against the wall. A bald, broad-shouldered man with tattoos racing up his thick neck walked forward with the authority of a king entering his throne room.
“I’m Craig,” he said in a booming voice that produced an echoed even in the small room. “Today, I’m talking to you about emotions.”
All of us were too intimidated to laugh at the irony of a lesson on emotions from this meathead counselor. In my first five days in rehab, I had only heard rumors of Craig the counselor.
He drew three words on the board: Event, Thought, Emotion. He let them stand there in their own space as he walked back and then drew two straight arrows that connected Event to Thought and Thought to Emotion.
“Biochemically,” he said, now turning to us, “this chain lasts only ninety seconds.”
He went back up to the board and put his marker at the top of Emotion and drew one arching arrow back to Event and a second to Thought.
“Our problem,” he said, “is that we allow our emotions to carry us back into a new triggering event or thought pattern that continues feeding it.” He let silence linger in the space. “To navigate a life in recovery, you must first be aware of this chain before you can start to master it.”
I couldn’t connect with it in the moment, but that whiteboard diagram would later become the foundation of what I now call the Emotional Pillar of my life.
For years, I believed strength meant controlling emotions—or better yet, eliminating them altogether. Alcohol had been an incredibly effective solution for muting the uncomfortable emotional highs and lows. Yet, I knew it was a solution I could not go to anymore, so I needed to figure out a different way.
What I didn’t understand early in recovery is that emotional strength isn’t found in suppression or control, but in capacity. The capacity to experience life fully without fear of being overwhelmed. The capacity to stay present when emotions surge. The capacity to allow emotion to move through you without demanding that it dictate your next action. And eventually, the capacity to shape the thoughts upstream of emotion in a way that builds resolve instead of fear.
Early in recovery, I focused on being able to sit with emotions, accepting them as something I did not control. I began experiencing them rather than trying to suppress them. I challenged myself to identify emotions and carried around an emotional wheel that I would stare at during moments where my knowledge failed me. I was not studying for some never-to-be-given exam, but simply working to name the sensation I was experiencing.
I learned early how deeply the three pillars feed off one another. Strengthening my Physical pillar increased my tolerance for stress when heavy emotions hit. Strengthening my Spiritual pillar reshaped the subconscious thoughts I carry, which fundamentally altered the emotional output of the same events.
When the Emotional Pillar is weak, discipline cracks and faith falters. When it’s strengthened, both become more resilient. The work feeds off of itself and compounds.
There is still work to do. Always will be. There are components of the practices that I engage with every day with the intention of strengthening my Emotional Pillar. It’s a forever project, but one worth working on. A beauty and richness entered my life that I never anticipated when I first started working on simply sitting with an emotion early in rehab.
To live, to feel, to experience fully.
This pillar isn’t formed in an instant; it’s grown and strengthened daily.
Keep showing up,
Kyle Layne (Kyle Zibrowski)