...I have a podcast that even makes me cry.
Did you miss me? How have you been? Have you watched a good movie? What's your favourite song right now? Which 90s reboot are you most excited for (if you say Gilmore Girls, we can be real life friends)? Are you hydrated? What are your thoughts on donuts? What are your thoughts on the mass restocking of vanilla coke in Canada (I cried when I walked into a corner store and saw the sweet nectar of the gods blessed upon me once again)? What was the last thing your parents said to you (my mom told me I drink too much beer and you know, she's not wrong)?
How do you feel about questions?
How do you feel about answers?
How do you feel when your question has no answer?
How do you feel about feeling?
I'm terrified of feelings. Like not just bad feelings, but literally every feeling that has ever existed. You could racial slurs in my face and I would shrug it right off. You could tell me a compliment about my hair and I would shrug it off. Some of you reading this might think that I'm emotionally devoid or something and I don't blame you cause that what it sounds like.
But recently I was introduced to this thing called a cathartic release. Its nothing fancy. Actually, we all go through it, I just never knew what to call it. Although I am a private person, I found my release in the world of music. Not creating, but listening. Listening to others emotions and their feelings and their life story. I think it was Fight Club or some other movie with a lot of angry white people where they said you know you're alive when you are feeling (this is a paraphrase from a movie I don't even remember but it stuck with me but all I can remember is angry white men). My release is sitting down with a set of headphones in and listening to the words of artists who are able to talk about how they are feeling in ways I can't even comprehend.
What I have taken for granted is the access to my release and how easy it is for me to obtain. Its an emotional luxury that I am privileged to have. This hit me like wall when we got a message in from Beatrice. For Mother's Day, we put out a call to action for listeners to send in messages for their moms and share the love around the world. Most the messages were happy. People giving thanks for the women in their life who empowered them to be who they are today. Then Beatrice called.
Her mom passed a year ago on Mother's Day.
Her message is just over a minute long, but for the first five seconds, there is silence. If you listen close, you can hear sobs being engulfed by a deep breath. She speaks and I cried. I called my mom to tell her I loved her the second that Beatrice hung up.
The next day, Beatrice opened up on Facebook about how she wasn't going to say anything. She was going to stay low and avoid the long winded Mother's Day messages that flooded our social media.
She opened up and said that she had the opportunity for catharsis.
Isn't it beautiful?