After we bought our car in November and started listening to NPR on the radio, I felt so freshly clued in to the world that for a while I entertained the romantic idea of becoming a news reporter.
But this week I've been listening with different ears, and all I hear is a line up of voices; voices of people who have trained themselves not to feel as they report on some really, really sad events and circumstances. The news about the Dow Jones, a recent shooting, the weather, and the results of a study on sexual assault towards juveniles in prison were delivered this afternoon with the same tone of voice: undulated to keep it audiologically interesting, but devoid of any type of emotion.
No thank you to that career option. I prefer to feel.
This morning the baby son of a friend of mine died, and the grief moved around in me all day until it found a way to be expressed. As I was driving alone at dusk a deer darted across the road in front of me, and I slammed on the brakes, and the groceries on the seat sailed across the car. I arrived at the house shaking - shaking out remnants of the day's fear, sorrow, grief, insecurity... and my husband held me.
Feelings are not always pleasant, but I am coming to terms with the vast range that moves through me. If the alternative is numbness and disconnection, I choose to feel.