I usually hear the word ambivalence described with a negative connotation, that it is an emotion that is thought of as an unpleasant or negative one. I’ve heard it categorized into the bad feeling department, giving it the same assignment as say, anger, rage, depression, sadness, confusion, all of the no-no feels. I stand by current wisdom that says that our emotional intelligence is simply being aware of what emotions we are feeling and without judgment, experiencing them as gifts, as indicators of where our lives are speaking to us. Any emotion, whether traditionally considered positive or negative, can lead us to either impairment or as gifts received.
Ambivalence, or having two polarized emotional responses to one particular occurrence or event, is that feeling of bitter sweetness, or we use the term, mixed feelings, or a love-hate relationship with something. They seem contradictory and intuitively, we wonder how they can be in the same space. In our world, ambivalence makes perfect sense to me. Perhaps it is the gateway to a third way of being.
In a sense, I have been painting ambivalence since I became a painter, though perhaps without even knowing it. In an early artist statement, I wrote, “As a painter, I perceive that there are many relationships active in a good piece of work, such as light and dark, smooth and rough, colorful and dull, space and illusion of space, abstract and concrete. These relationships exist to portray contrasts and diversity, without which, artwork would be boring and flat. This could be said of life as well. And it is in these relationships perhaps, that we find those transitory, beautiful spaces in which the dichotomy of contentious opposites are found flourishing peacefully, inhabiting a minute corner of the world for a transient instant.” I have always been fascinated by these tensions of opposites, two polarized views of seeing the world. I realize in my painting process, I am attempting to make something new out of the two polarized planes. The two opposing forces are present, but live together, making a third possibility, “the dichotomy of contentious opposites found flourishing peacefully, inhabiting a minute corner of the world for a transient instant.”
This is the third force, in latin, called Tertium Quid. It is what Richard Rohr calls the “reconciling force that is bigger than both of the parts and doesn’t exclude either of them.” It is this force that can generate the New. This is true in every sphere one would want to apply it to: politics, art, relationships, creativity, spirituality, emotional depth, the way one does dishes or thinks about the future.
When one feels ambivalence, one is simply aware of opposites being at odds with one another. Perhaps this is an invitation to find the reconciling force within that emotion.
On my run yesterday, I spotted this beautiful yellowtail butterfly wing on the side of the road. At first, I gasped at the beauty, shape and color of the saturated yellow and sheens of iridescent blue in the black outline. I recalled what I learned about some iridescence found in nature, that there are no pigments present - it appears iridescent because of the way the light refracts on the imperfect surface of the object (this happens with mother of pearl, dragonfly wings, peacock feathers, etc). I wondered what was true about this wing. Then it hit me that the rest of this little majestic guy was probably splattered on someone’s windshield, or being digested in the stomach of a bird. Then, I looked up to see a fallen bird nest a couple feet away under a tree in the neighboring lawn. I immediately felt sad at the loss and end of these beautiful, vulnerable creatures. I thought of people and stories in my life that can easily make me feel despair. How quickly I went from awe, curiosity and appreciation to a sense of futility and sadness. I began to wonder why? Why even expend energy into anything that is beautiful? It really is a transient instant. I felt ambivalence toward my own life. I also know that if I can’t take the honest dip downward to sorrow, I can’t take the honest thrust upward to joy. These two inform one another. The seeming opposites are actually cohabitating quite naturally. It is me who tries to sort them out and separate them and call one better or worse than the other. The third way is about ceasing to include or exclude, but allow everything to belong. The third way is about integrating two polar ideas and making something new. I’m charging myself with a new spiritual discipline, and that is to look for the reconciling force toward any given situation I find myself in.