emotional hug.

Been struggling with this sense of going crazy because I've been so emotional these past few week here.  Even been hesitant to write (hence the sporadic nature of posts).

And yet it hit me today, yesterday, recently - the emotion is a good sign.  I shed tears almost every day here, simply recognition of the intensity of what I see.  The poverty, the struggle, the little children, all of the above.  And yet I'm finally feeling things, deeply, for the first time in what feels like forever.

I remember before I embarked on this journey feeling frustrated, stuck, at my inability to feel depth and intensity.  And here I am, scared and critical at the passion.  Gut reaction is to do what I can to make it go away.  Sudden thought: what if I give it space, welcome it home?  After all, passion is what motivates us to act, to behave, to change, to love, to truly live.  So why fight it?

Because it's scary as sh*t.  Feeling like the tears won't stop, worried about the distance to home, freaked out about the images of oppression that replay in the mind.

And yet it's reality.  It's depth, it's what makes life live.  I could walk through this experience with my eyes closed, but I refuse.  I refuse the desensitization that comes as a gut instinct to the horrific.  I see you, I cry, I panic, I want to run away, shut my eyes.  But I keep looking, because there's a lesson there. There's a validation.  There's a recognition that is so desperately deserved by the struggled.

I let it out, I embrace, and I remind myself that emotion is powerful for a reason.  It's all good.  The pain allots for the pleasure, the depth of hope that wouldn't be felt without the emotional training pain gives our feeling sensors.

I hug you, even if you cannot feel it in the moment.