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  • Keep feeling out, little by little, the inner structures of the emotions that once ruled you. As you explore, start to feel them coalesce into something solid and unmoving. Start to understand that the solid and unmoving thing was there all along, waiting patiently for you to notice it. Realize you have already begun to think of it as home. Wonder if this is what people mean when they talk about emotional stability.

    ~ Nick Cox
    From: How to be Emotionally Stable Without Getting Bored

    I like to sing out loud, but I only like to do it when I am moving. I've had this habit for years, and of course since I live in a city finding a nice open space where I can walk and sing is no easy feat.

    So I don't. I just sing while I am walking wherever I am. I wear headphones, so I can't hear myself. That makes it easier, because people in headphones are already occupying their own sort of reality.

    I notice when I am not wearing my headphones, that there are other walker-singers out there. I am not alone in the need to be moving and melodic. Sometimes I want to stop them and see if there is some thing that binds us, some truth or personality trait, but I imagine if I ever did that they'd be just as wildly solitary about it as I am. We are not the joiners of choirs, the walker-singers. We want to be alone. It's not a performance, if I am only heard in passing, it's like I haven't really been heard at all.

    I am 5'4 and my feelings are 10 feet tall. I can't in the words of Cat Stevens "Keep It In". So I sing, I sing songs commensurate with my emotions. On the rare occasion that I am angry I may belt out some Distillers or Patti Smith under a highway overpass. It's pretty fun, not gonna lie.

    I don't know if this is wrong. I don't know if this means my emotions rule me. It certainly sounds like 'classic' emotional person behavior doesn't it? But I think I am emotionally stable, so it's a bit of a quandary. I am good at managing my 10 foot emotional giant, sometimes I wish I had an emotional toy poodle, but then I would never have sung Sleater Kinney at the top of my breath, under the Turcotte Interchange in 1999, and that would be a shame, because that was a lovely walk.

    Back to now, today. I needed a rest so I went to sit on a picnic bench. It was near a playground where my yesterday man and I once had a wonderful romantic accident involving a giant puddle and some very wet boots. I sat on the bench and felt my heart yearn and hating it's capacity to do that. There are a lot of songs written about yearning, but that's because it's the hardest emotion to have. It needs more music.

    That's when I noticed the words embedded in ice on the table next to me.

    Aren't they lovely. I'm not going to say anything at all about them, that's up to you. This was just a story about how I like to sing.
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