Over at Things To Do, Ergo says (see comments) I would like to be less sensitive, cause it doesn't turn out to be that useful.
Hmm. Not useful. In weaker moments I often accuse daughter S. of liking to argue (favoring semantics), and now I know where she gets it. Not profitable, maybe. Not...productive?
I have to believe it's useful, having, being, and knowing so many sensitivos. It can be an excuse--"X. is so rude and nasty to everyone else in the family because he's sensitive." It can be a way to dismiss someone--"Oh well, you're so sensitive." And my mother now dismisses everyone in the world who mistakenly describes someone as sensitive by wheeling around hand on hip and remarking wryly, "We're all sensitive."
But. But. Then I look at my son, who is...let's just say he feels things deeply. It makes things hard for him sometimes. It makes things particularly hard among boys. I think, though, that it also makes him particularly loving, and particularly insightful. And the usefulness of love and insight are not always abundantly apparent, but I think they must be very useful indeed. In a butterfly flapping its wings in another galaxy kind of way, maybe.
I know for a fact that ergo sang "In My Life" once on an important occasion, so she knows that we are made up of all the little moments in our lives. And don't get me wrong, I would love to be a stronger person, and less sensitive, too. Some days.
And of course there's art, but that's another post...