Hi Reader,

I have encountered my folly particularly impactfully in the last few weeks. It is this: I try to approach everything in order to understand it, but the things I long for—such as this thing I call coming home—are beyond understanding. And in my discomfort and self-judgment at not being able to understand, I withdraw and avoid.

A prime example of this is the way I don't maintain eye contact. There is so much information in another person's face and gaze, and I literally can't handle it. I look away in discomfort. I've always known I look away, but it's only recently that I came to realize it was because I was uncomfortable.

For now, my growth edge lies not in trying to figure things out, but in merely feeling my feelings, not resisting them, practicing describing them to myself and others.

The deepest and most consistent feeling I have is one I've always labeled sadness. But again within the last few weeks I'm coming to see that it's something deeper. I think it might be grief. Loss. Of what? I'll tell you later, but whatever it is also has this unknowable quality.

My current teacher told me that in order to approach the unknowable I must become unknowable to myself. This causes me to feel sadness, as if I must give up my very self in order to attain what I desire. But then, I wonder if I have already done so. Because how could I feel I have lost something if I never had it in the first place?

For now, I think I will have to just continue to sit with my feelings. Especially when they're uncomfortable.

Earlier today I overheard my daughter singing The Itsy Bitsy Spider. It occurred to me that learning to talk (or sing) requires talking (or singing). It's kind of a paradox. You don't learn to talk and then talk. Talking just arises.

I think the same thing applies to what I'm wrestling with. I can't learn to feel first, much as I might want to because it's easier and hurts less. I just have to allow my feeling to arise.