how it feels
meals, movies, Broadway plays can only be described - the who's, the when's and the what's. if the storyteller is good, you can almost see it. you can almost hear the sounds and the melody. but the place that even the best storyteller fails is in the feeling. "it was lovely" or "i was so happy" are dry bones compared to the living flesh of how it felt. the emotions of grief, sympathy and love run so deep and show that words are almost foolish in their attempt to convey the truth of it. the joy of finding a lost child, or lost love, or finding your own lost self in the midst of it all - is the sort of joy i mean. and words - alone - will not suffice. either joy or sorrow so deep that they nearly break a heart in two must be shared face to face. there must be touching and tears - and the fearlessness to bare one's soul. so many times we don't take the risk. the chance of deep connection - no matter how lovely - is always compared to all those ...