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.
6 comments:
Beautiful, Metta. Just beautiful. I miss you!
Your post brought tears to my eyes. Love you!
feeeling can be so hard. I don't know how to deal with so many emotions.
Metta, you've always been such a good example to me of living in the present and engaging yourself in life and love. This post is so touching.
I can't tell you how happy I am that you found a husband who treasures you and with whom you can be completely vulnerable. You two are a absolutely perfect for each other.
I hope you are feeling better!
Metta, When we work to ease other's suffering, we are constantly reminded how ever-present and intimately connected suffering is to everyday life. Having strong spiritual faith, familial support and a good sense of humor allows us to carry on with the good work. I honor your efforts. Dad
Metts,
I'm there with you... After talking with you that day, I must have cried on and off a dozen times for Nat and baby Gavin. I was profoundly heartbroken - still am for her family. I choose to feel too... it makes life real.
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