Sublimate: Do Something!

Source: Deborah Cabaniss

Two days after a teenage gunman shot and killed 17 people at Mary Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, Emma Gonzalez, a student there, roused crowds to action at a gun-control rally. Five days later, she and four classmates were on Meet the Press, announcing a march on Washington and confrontation with legislators. By Monday, another of their classmates, Christine Yared, had an Op-Ed in the New York Times.

They are sad. They are mad. And they are doing something. That’s called sublimation.

Sublimation is what happens when you take a feeling and turn it into something productive. Had a bad day? Go running. Your girlfriend broke up with you? Write a ballad. Beyond fury about what’s happening in the government? March! Vote! Write your congressman! Start a movement!

In Latin, sublimare means “to raise up” — you can hear our modern word “sublime” in there. In physical science, sublimation occurs when ice becomes vapor directly, without ever being liquid water. This apparently happens on top of Mount Kilimanjaro. The sun beats down on the snow cap, charging ice molecules with so much energy that they are raised up — sublimated. Never to languish in puddles, these whizzing atomic triads are liberated directly into air.

Something similar can happen to our feelings. We often protect ourselves from feelings by transforming them into more tolerable forms. This happens out of awareness using mind maneuvers called defense mechanisms. For example, a young mother may unconsciously transform anger at her crying baby into overprotection. We need these defenses — they help us modulate strong feelings and shield us from shame.

But sublimation is different. Like the alchemy on Kilimanjaro, sublimation skips the unconscious defense step, enabling strong feelings to directly fuel productivity. Emma Gonzalez had a really strong feeling after the Parkland shooting, and even though it must have been mighty, she didn’t need an unconscious maneuver to transform it — it hurtled directly into action. All of its power, all of its strength, became something productive. She organized, she spoke. Same with her classmate Christine Yared, who started writing. And write she did — as a bio, the Times editors just put, “The writer is 15 years old.” That said it all.

How can we mobilize more sublimation in our lives? How can we harness the surging power of our feelings to create, produce, and build? First, we have to be aware of those feelings. We live in a world that sings, “Don’t worry, be happy,” and breathe audibly as yoga teachers instruct us to “let something go.”

While that can make us temporarily more comfortable, it saps us of the hurling force of thoughts and feelings. Ecstasy, anxiety, rage, jealousy — even good feelings can frighten when they are big and booming. They spring from deep within our bodies, resonate against the walls of our chests, ricochet around our skulls and course through our veins. They make us sob and shake and lie awake at night. But like mighty rivers that light cities when channeled through dams, our feelings can power art, social movements, and inventions. They propel athletes, protesters, and explorers. Without them, our world is inert, devoid of momentum.

Of course, the concept of sublimation is not just about acting on feelings — that can often be dangerous. It’s about turning what could be a destructive force into something productive. It’s not bad to be angry or anxious or sad — that’s human. In fact, having those feelings is like stopping off at the service station of life: It fills us up and makes us go.

I was angry this morning, so after a brief tantrum I wrote this piece about anger. I sublimated. I was inspired by the terrified, angry, bereft students in Florida who are using their anger to do something productive, so I decided to start this blog. What will you do?