Nothing I said is genius

I thought of writing about the experience of feelings, and it didn't take me long to “theorize the text”, as Ana Holanda says. It was good because feelings are a lot in our lives. I live it on my way: eight or eighty.

For a long time, I called it intensity. I thought that people who don't get carried away with love or hate for someone or something were lukewarm, weak in soul and heart. I became 30 and my outlook on life began to change. Almost at 41, after pandemic times. Can you imagine…

Returning to intensity: I moved between passion and fury as if feelings were two big hills and, the space between them, a big void. As I said, life passes us by. Sometimes like a fragrant breeze, sometimes “by the shoes”, said Isabel Allende. I started to build paths between those hills when I got tired of the shoes. I would love to stay on the fragrant breeze mountain forever. Unfortunately, it didn't. I understood that dichotomy is not synonymous with authenticity and that eternal intensity is too tiring.

Thinking about how I experienced great emotions in the past, I remember good feelings and incredible moments. But I remember myself crying rivers, the several kilos more or less, slaps in the face (believe me), abuse, deep sadness, those that hurt in the flesh. For a long time, I believed that the only alternative to this was insignificance.

Discovering the universes between my hills of feelings has been a huge learning experience. I understood that part of my sadness, or my tiredness, could tuck under the covers on a Wednesday afternoon. Tons of anger could be assuaged with countless breaths, funny videos, and, only then, a conversation with the target of my fury. Is it still the case? Irritation with work, which was already so spilled over into mine, can become an “it's not up to you guys. I need to be quiet.”

Nothing I've said is genius. I know kids who live their lives like that, and they're remarkable. I wouldn't be able to do that at 10, my son's age today. That's where I see the big discovery: what others think we are is their business. We need to perform who we want to be.