A Full Course
Together, you and I sit at the same table of emotions. It is a flimsy table that is barely holding itself together. You and I are united by empathy, as we grieve our carved-out tables of life. This table, although weak, offers a feast of actions and feelings and expressions and reactions. At every corner of the table, there is a copious amount of salt. I open a can of shock and I sip it cautiously, as I try to process the sudden change that has instantaneously impacted our ways of life. I look up and I find that you have grabbed the saltshaker. With tears in your eyes, you grieve your routine. You are fixated on memories of yesterday and the days before. As a result, you pour salt on your wounds and your mourning leaves you engulfed in tears. It soon becomes difficult for you to see through your tears. As you attempt to breathe, you put back the saltshakers and grab the strongly flavored mint candy that is hidden behind a smoothie of emotions that make no sense and leave you filled with anxiety. You unwrap it and taste it, as you make a conscious effort to reminisce over lighter memories. I grab a bowl of fear and I quickly return it to the table. After taking a careful look at it, I realize that it is not appetizing. The fear does nothing to fill my hunger. Rather, the bowl of fear is scalding hot and smells of seasoning that is nauseating. Perhaps, it would be easier to swallow a cup of emptiness that tastes like absolutely nothing at all. Or, I could eat a meal of anger and swallow all the “what ifs?” that have been popped in the microwave and thrown on the table. You grab a few bites of frustration and the taste leaves you uncomfortable. We soon begin to realize that this table is not sustainable. It is heavy, and it is quickly falling apart. Empathy has brought us together so that we can do more than survive and so we can eventually thrive. I begin to clear the table of emotions that are better off occasionally tasted. There is no need for these emotions to be regulars on the table. They are not meant to be a constant part of our breakfast, lunch and dinner. Perhaps, they are meant to be felt every now and then with a cup of warm tears and a
46
Made with FlippingBook - professional solution for displaying marketing and sales documents online