Andy writes: "I'm extremely sorry for your loss Eric. Emotional problems hit anyone, up to and including the highest rungs of governments. I'm coming away from your experience thinking that the only thing that's truly ours is our emotions and our feelings. We share words, we share thoughts, we share ideas, but we can't share emotions. Only we ourselves can feel our emotions and feelings. Ironically, that's the one area we all shun, running instead toward the collective, the word. I wonder if the desire to outrun emotions and feelings underlies collective amnesia (Gore Vidal's the United States of Amnesia, but certainly it's not just us). It certainly underlies all the conflict of the world. We can't deal with our emotions/feelings, but we can dump them on another, as your fiance's ex-husband did, and as every and all fight, from biggest to smallest, including invasions, has done." Thank you, Andy. I wrote that piece yesterday as part of something I'm trying to do generally these days, figure out how to talk in public about emotional things without sliding into either demagoguery or maudlin public displays of emotion. I do so, though, in part because I am convinced it is not entirely right that "only we ourselves can feel our emotions and feelings." Certainly there is a very important sense in which that is right: if I cut myself no one else feels the pain of that wound. I believe, however, that we *do* experience one another's emotions in some important if intractably ambiguous and often tragically limited ways. The fact that our experience of each other's emotions *is* incomplete, subject to gross error, and intractably ambiguous makes that experience both extremely difficult to talk about and anxiety-provoking. None of those characteristics, though, mean it is false that we have such experiences. A small example of the applicability of this. In my most recent position, the one I'm leaving as I move from Phoenix to Washington, I ran into several situations where we all knew what needed to be done to fix something about how our business worked, were all capable of doing our parts to fix it and understood our parts, agreed that it was important, but still didn't do it. I, the head computer guy, the one whose job is to do the supposedly hard engineering things to make the company's systems run well, would find myself pointing out to my peers and subordinates that the problems we were having were not intellectual problems. There were no objective impediments. There were only emotional impediments. In these situations it seemed to me that we were each afraid of the consequence of changing even things that were manifestly broken and as a group we were unable to find a way to overcome our individual fears. There were lots of cases where we did get things done -- that's why Aetna just bought us for $535 million -- but the cases where we didn't were very instructive. They were clearly emotional, not intellectual problems. It seemed to me that among the things that happened was that people would feel how others felt. The most obvious and destructive example was when one person became afraid, others who might not have been afraid before would become afraid too, and then would begin finding all the reasons they should be afraid. The reverse happened as well, people who had the courage to assert their belief that a change might be for the better, and who had the stamina to endure the both self-inflicted and group-inflicted sense that they might be pollyannas, they would gradually find others feeling and acting the same way. I think the reality is that we do feel each others' emotions, though in attenuated, incomplete, ambiguous and often inaccurate ways, and how we react to each others' emotions does indeed have a lot to do with what happens, in part because our reasoning selves do not always recognize what's going on, as in the case of the person who's not frightened but encounters another who is and then begins searching for (and finding) putatively rational reasons for their fear. That's among the reasons I think it's worth trying to find a constructive and productive way to talk about emotional things in public, even though doing so is often awkward. Anyway, thanks again for your kind words. Best regards to one and all, Eric Dean Phoenix --> Rockford