Thursday, January 9, 2014
I like the feelings wheel not because I am a featherweight New Ager who has a not really ironic earthenware Buddha by the kitchen sink and believes in the potential for yetzer hatov, in Yiddish, the inclination to do good -- but because it's a reminder for my parenting.
A rainbow to meet the definition of rainbow, must have all its colors.
So often I stuff into my spleen angry, sad, and scared and hold up like a carnival mask a Big Yellow 70s Happy Face.
But that's a terrible example to my kids, for whom I want yes, unstuffed spleens, and that ineffable blow a conch shell Vedic wholeness of being comfortable across lines, and in gray areas, and at pointy edges where choices are made, because, darlins', what else is real?