A Liminal Space

Last night I watched the movie Sinners, and it left me thinking about the true power of our emotions. This film ranks among the best I’ve seen in a theater recently. If you enjoy vampire stories with rich storytelling, beautiful mythology, and deep historical context, you should definitely see this movie.

What struck me most was a scene where past, present, and future generations all danced together. That image stays with me, especially relevant given my recent work tracing my ancestry.

Growing up adopted, I always tried to keep everyone happy by being what they expected. There was always this feeling that something was missing, though I couldn’t name it. I remember being in first grade, losing a beauty pageant. In the car afterward, my mother told my father and me that I should have won because I was the prettiest one. I felt so heavy. I thought I lost because I wasn’t good enough.

These days I’m learning a lot about how our emotions often mean something different than what we initially think. As neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett explains, our emotions are constructed by our brains based on our past experiences and cultural context. That’s why it’s important to develop what she calls “emotional granularity” – the ability to make fine-grained distinctions between your emotional experiences and label them precisely.

When I develop better emotional granularity, I can recognize that the feeling telling me “I’m not good enough” might actually be communicating “I’m not getting what I need.” What I needed was belonging and connection – to be loved for who I was, not how I looked.

I know my mother meant well. She wanted me to succeed, and back then, winning beauty pageants looked like success. In our culture, value is still often measured by appearance – just look at billboards, movies, and advertisements. What’s fascinating is that our emotions are actually shaped by our culture. When society measures worth by beauty, feeling “not beautiful enough” translates to feeling “not enough.”

In Sinners, real connection happens in the universe when Sammie sings and plays from his heart, expressing his deepest feelings. His gift creates a bridge between past, present, and future generations through authentic expression. True connection requires us to be true to ourselves – not the surface version, but the depths of who we are.

A surface-level connection is like drinking salt water – it creates more thirst without nourishing the soul. Building a genuine connection requires hard work, not control. Sometimes the path to freedom looks chaotic. Sometimes it’s darkest before dawn.

I’ve been thinking about Jesus lately, especially when so many powerful people these days claim to follow his teachings. It’s interesting to note that Jesus spoke more about the Kingdom of God than anything else and presenting values opposite to worldly ones: the greatest become the least, the least become the greatest. It’s easier for a camel to pass through a needle’s eye than for a rich person to enter God’s kingdom.

In Sinners, when everything falls apart, Sammie initially blames himself for not listening to his preacher father about playing guitar in juke joints. He’s oppressed both by society and by religious beliefs. Jesus came to remove burdens and free captives – while being called a drunkard and glutton. Today, he might be called “woke.” The movie shows that Sammie’s authentic expression through music actually holds the key to healing the world’s oppression.

What are you struggling with today? Do worldly systems make it impossible to be yourself? Do unseen forces offer false relief from your pain? Is religion telling you it’s wrong to express your true self? All of these things work to keep us from being authentic – which is actually the solution to the world’s problems.

How do we become more authentic? Start by asking: What do I want? Sammie wanted to sing and play the blues. What brings out the best in others when you’re being yourself?

Padraig O’Tuama recently said in an interview with Kate Bowler:

Prayer is something that comes from, arises from the core of me, sometimes against my other instincts and links me with something that is guiding and true… The word in English ‘pray’ comes from French ‘prier,’ to ask, and ask is linked to desire. What do you want? What are you asking for? Is it true enough? Is it good enough? Does it lead us? Does it lead us into creativity? Or does it lead us into active destruction?

A dear friend reminded me this morning that when we question our choices, we often end up making better ones. Working through tough decisions is like digging for buried treasure – you’ve got to keep going deeper to find what’s valuable.

Being uncertain doesn’t mean something’s wrong with us. It usually just means we need more information. When I pray about what I really want and am able to accept the difficult emotions wrestling inside, I start to see my true motivations. Even the desires that seem destructive point to something I’m missing in my life. When I figure out what I actually need and find healthy ways to meet those needs, it turns out it helps other people too.

It’s been a long journey forgiving myself for desires that led me down dark paths. Emotions are powerful. When we accept and listen to what they reveal about us, they are able to create much good. When pressed down, they can become like volcanoes and can destroy much. People like Sammie, who sing their feelings without fear, give us permission to do the same. Through deep emotional expression, we create beautiful connections. We’re not so different. Dig deeper, and you’ll find treasures money and power can’t buy.

Your emotions aren’t something to hide or push down – they’re the compass pointing you toward who you really are. When you feel anger, it’s showing you your boundaries. When you feel joy, it’s revealing what lights you up. When you feel sadness, it’s teaching you what matters most.

Every feeling you have is trying to tell you something true about yourself. When we shut down our emotions to fit in, we’re cutting ourselves off from our own internal guidance system. Being authentic isn’t just about showing your ‘true self’ to the world – it’s about listening to what your feelings are telling you about who you actually are.

The world might want you to keep those emotions in check, but they’re the very thing that will lead you home to yourself.

I’ll end with this poem by Padraig O’Tuama. As you read, notice what connections you feel. If you were to write your own “In the name of” prayer, what would you include?
– How might this way of praying change how we approach difficult emotions or experiences?

In the Name – Pádraig Ó Tuama

In the name of goodness, of love and of broken community
in the name of meaning, of feeling and I hope you don’t screw me
in the name of darkness and light and ungraspable twilight
in the name of mealtimes and sharing and caring by firelight

In the name of action, of peace and human redemption
in the name of eating, of drinking and table confession
in the name of sadness, regret and holy obsession,
in the holy name of anger, the spirit of aggression

In the name of forgive and forget, and I hope I get over this
in the name of father and son and unholy spirits
in the name of beauty and broken and beaten up daily
in the name of seeing our creeds and believing in maybe

We gather here, a roomful of strangers
and speak of our hopeland, and talk of our danger
to make sense of our thinking, to authenticate lives
to humanize feeling and stop telling lies

In the name of philosophy, of theology and who gives a damn
in the name of employment and study and finding new family
in the name of our passions, our lovings and indecent obsessions
in the name of prayer, of worship and demon possession

In the name of solitude, of quiet and holy reflection
in the name of the lost, the lonely and the without-direction
in the name of the early and the late and the wholly ineffectual
in the name of the straight, and the queer, transgender and  bisexual

In the name of bootclogs, and boobjobs and erectile dysfunction
in the name of schizophrenia, hysteria and obsessive compulsion
in the name of Jesus, and Mary and the mostly silent Joseph
in the name of speaking to ourselves, saying ‘this is more than I can cope with’

In the name of touch-up, and break-up, and of breakdown-and-weeping
in the name of therapy, and Prozac, and of full-hearted breathing
in the name of sadness and madness and years-since-I’ve-smiled
in the name of the Unknown, the Alien, and of the Wholly-In-Exile

In the name of the named and the unnamed and the names of the nameless
in the name of the prayers that repeat ‘I wish that I could change this’
in the name of goodness and kindness and intentionality
in the name of harbour, and shelter and family.

© Pádraig Ó Tuama

References

Barrett, Lisa Feldman. How Emotions Are Made: The Secret Life of the Brain. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2017.

Bowler, Kate, and Padraig O’Tuama. Everything Happens. Podcast interview, 2024.

Sinners. Film, 2024.

O’Tuama, Padraig. In the Name Of. Personal collection.