A Long Haul

Kris Kristofferson sang once that "There ain't nothing sweeter than naked emotion". There's truth in that, I think. It becomes ever rarer that people earnestly express feelings. Often they must be neutralized or made palatable somehow. We "ironically enjoy" things, or call them guilty pleasure. We malign ourselves as being nerdy or lame somehow before saying that we like something we know others don't like. It's a shame.

I am as bad with this as anyone. I distrust the release of my real emotions, fearing the impact they might have on others and the way that it all might reflect on me. I water them down, package them in a more favorable manner, or just keep them to myself. It's very, very hard to express anything like 100 percent of my feelings, outside of those that are very pleasant or that are universally shared. I am doing my best, though.

In improv classes, we have periodically engaged in what might be called "dramaprov": dramatic improv where free expression of heightened emotions is the goal, and not humor. That's very hard for me, but it has been good to work at it and see that life does not end when I express anger or sadness, if only because it is a character on a stage. Perhaps it is a stepping stone to being more open with feelings in life.

If I can manage that, it would have obvious benefits, but one that comes to mind is that I could finally begin to do well at the non-comedic speech contests in my Toastmasters public speaking organization. A number of months ago, I won a humorous speech contest, but more recently failed to escape the first round of a contest concerned typically with more serious material. I did all right, but it was certainly not enough.

I hoped, with my speech, to inspire people to accept the inevitability of being hurt in pursuit of their goals. I might have moved the needle a little, but it got me only second place. First place was won by a speaker who got the whole room in tears, himself included. I was quite impressed, and envious as well. That would be unimaginable for me, not only to bring people to tears but to have them myself. As I told him, I could not remember the last time I did.

Knowing of my issues with the expression of feelings is the first, very critical step. Aware of the problem, I can attempt to address it. I don't know how, but it is at least possible. If I can come to really trust those around me (and myself), perhaps I will manage it. Maybe I'll never get as far as some people, but I'd like at least to improve enough that I can convincingly portray such feelings in a performance someday.