There’s joy in learning how to cry

Tuesday night at Meisner 4 we each read our Spoon River piece out loud, then put our copy away and said it again in our own words.

I’d read it at least one hundred times over the week and had very little reaction to it. Just words on a page, words in my head.

By the time I finished saying it in my own words I was trembling and on edge. (half ready to cry, half afraid/wanting to hide) By the time one of my classmates had finished her piece I couldn’t quit crying. It was deeply painful and moving and because she was affected by it I was as well.

I didn’t expect mine to affect me. I truly didn’t. I assumed that I’d have to rely fully on a circumstance to have a reaction. So the swell of emotion was both unexpected and welcome. Harsh, but welcome.

This past year has been a year of learning how to express the emotions I have, the ones I thought were missing. They’re there, they always were, but they are buried deep under fear and control. It has taken the patient work of friends and teachers to show me that. And to show me that letting them out is OK. (good)(healthy)

My homework for this week is to create a circumstance that reflects the emotional core of my piece (abandonment/betrayal by those closest to me/being thought worthless) and have it ready for class next week.

This thing I’m doing is frelling hard.


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