What I’m Listening To

What is the Emotions Journal?

As an exercise, my goal is to start each writing session with an Emotions Journal entry.

I was inspired to do this by the book How To Burn A Rainbow: My Gay Marriage Didn’t Make Me Whole, My Divorce Did by Karl Dunn.

In it, he describes following a three-step formula — What, Ask, Wait — for each entry:

1. What: Write down the most recent incident that triggered your emotions and describe how it made you feel, aiming for instinctive, unfiltered truth.
2. Ask: Formulate a question about the incident — How?, Where?, When?, Who?, Why?, etc. Why questions often help uncover deeper understanding.
3. Wait: Sit quietly, listen for an answer from within, and write down the guidance that comes.

So, I’m going to try it. I’ll write as freely as I can, and then edit minimally thereafter.

Emotions Journal Entry #2

What

I pulled the cover off the grill and looked around for the frog. The little guy has made the grill his home for a couple of years. (At least, I think it’s the same frog each time.)

About 50% of the time I uncover the grill, he’s hanging near one of the knobs. I grab a container, get him to hop in, and then put him on the small, glass table I have on the balcony. He usually hangs there for a bit before hopping off.

Today, no little buddy.

This time, I finally remembered to check the sensor I have on the propane tank before starting the grill. I got a new phone a few weeks ago, and I needed to re-pair it. Once it connected, it showed the tank at 15%, enough to grill my brats, and so I lit the burners and closed the lid.

Checking the app again, I noticed that the sensor was acting up and showing the tank as empty, so I fussed with it on the bottom of the tank. Then, just to double check that there was still gas, I opened the lid.

I panicked.

My little frog friend was stuck between the grill grates, trying to escape the flames I’d lit a minute prior. He’d never been inside the grill before, and I had no idea that he was this time.

I furiously killed all of the burners, rushed inside, and grabbed something I could use to help him get unstuck. I nudged him a bit with a tool I use to catch and release bugs, and he thankfully got his footing and jumped to safety.

While he hopped a few times on the grill, and then down onto the balcony floor, I was a wreck. I was devastated that I could have hurt him. And, while it seemed like he was okay, all of my empathy unleashed, and I was terrified for him, trapped inside that grill as it roared to life.

Even as I write this hours later, I find myself getting emotional again. He’s just a little guy.

And, as happens during a breakup, I revisited memories with D for the first time since he left, which did nothing but add insult to injury.

D loved frogs, and animals in general. That’s something we shared. Every time our frog friend appeared on the grill, I’d call him over. He’d excitedly rush to the balcony, pick the frog up (who’d usually pee in his hand), and move him to safety on the glass table.

So, this time, I had the guilt of almost killing my little buddy, the empathetic terror for when he was trapped, and now the sadness and grief over my past relationship. And, of course, all I wanted in that moment after rescuing him was to tell D. To talk to him. To hug him.

I just wanted some fucking brats.

Ask

Why does my empathy run so deeply? Doesn’t it just cause more pain? When will this relationship pain abate?

Wait

In this moment, it feels right to speak to myself in the second person. So, that’s what I’m doing.

You’ve got to keep feeling these things. Feeling them is the only way.

With this grief, there’s no around, above, below, beside, outside of, underneath, or any other possible preposition that will work. There is only through.

Your empathy drives you to feel deeply. You feel deeply when things are bad or challenging. But, that’s the price to pay for feeling deeply when things are good.

It’s worth it.

Your frog friend was in trouble, and that made you sad and scared. Good. You should feel those things, even about a little buddy like that. Especially about a little buddy like that. He’s an innocent and defenseless little creature, and he was probably terrified.

You should feel those things. Especially about a little buddy like that.

Feel this now.

Remember that you are human and that you care. You care so deeply that you’re crying in front of a keyboard on a Sunday night, alone, writing a blog post about a frog.

You’re crying about the frog.

You’re not crying about the frog.

You should give him a name.