I told Doc last night, “All I talk about any more is the gym and my feelings,” but you know what? Talking about feelings is OK. Here’s part of a poem about them (the full text is here).
From “A Poem for My Daughter,” by Teddy Macker
It seems we have made pain
some kind of mistake,
like having it
is somehow wrong.
Don’t let them fool you—
pain is a part of things.
But remember, dear Ellie,
the compost down in the field:
if the rank and dank and dark
are handled well, not merely discarded,
but turned and known and honored,
they one day come to beds of rich earth
home even to the most delicate rose.