I talk to my kids about feeling -- and recognizing -- their own feelings.
I talk to my students about writing emotional truth -- and how that's often more important than "fact".
I believe in emotional authenticity.
And paying attention to what we feel.
I believe that what we feel matters.
As an adolescent and a teenager, I put up all sorts of walls.
Actually, I put up walls inside of fences behind curtains.
(I probably only effectively hid things from myself, but there you go...)
It seemed like the thing to do.
(There were a lot of "messages" out there.)
But one of the great joys of being over 40 is wearing my heart on my sleeve.
Pouring stuff out -- on the page or around the dinner table.
My kids think of me as a crier.
And they're right...
Personal
Don’t take it personal, they said;
but I did, I took it all quite personal—
the breeze and the river and the color of the fields;
the price of grapefruit and stamps,
the wet hair of women in the rain—
And I cursed what hurt me
and I praised what gave me joy,
the most simple-minded of possible responses.
Read the rest here....
And read all the other wonderful Poetry Friday entries here...
Happy weekend, friends.
Namaste.
