She was 11 years old. It was summer, and she woke up late.

 

She came downstairs looking for her friends, but her mom told her they had already come by.

 

She didn’t want to wake her.

 

So, she went out back and sat on an old sofa in the yard, alone in the sun.

 

The neighbor’s dog came over and jumped up beside her.

 

As she petted him, she felt something under his skin.

 

It was a leash—so tight it had grown into him. It must have been on since he was a puppy. It was almost fused to his skin.

 

She gently worked her fingers around it, searching for any loose space.

 

She found just enough.

 

She went inside, grabbed scissors, and came back. Slowly, carefully, she began cutting it away—doing everything she could not to hurt him.

 

The dog didn’t move. Not a whimper.

 

When she finally got it off and saw his skin, she burst into tears and ran inside.

 

Her mom came, and they went to the neighbor.

 

The dog was taken to the vet.

 

He ended up being okay.

 

But she wasn’t.

 

That moment overwhelmed her.

 

She told me this story… 80 years later.

 

She said she couldn’t contain the tears.

 

Another friend of mine was driving through a rough neighborhood in Philadelphia after volunteering.

 

She saw things people see every day.

 

But something in her broke open.

 

She started crying as she drove.

Two women.

Two moments.

Both moved to tears by what they felt.

 

And it moved me enough to share this:

 

The ability to feel deeply matters.

 

Why?

 

Because it’s human.

 

We don’t come into this world numb.

 

But somewhere along the way, we learn to shut it down.

 

“Don’t cry.”

“I’ll give you something to cry about.”

“Stop being a crybaby.”

 

Or maybe it’s just that emotions make people uncomfortable.

 

So, we hide them.

 

But if we don’t feel…

 

How do we know what matters?

How do we know where to care?

How do we know what needs our attention?

I don’t think people who cry are weak.

 

I think they’re brave.

 

They’re in touch with something many people have disconnected from—and don’t even realize they’ve lost.

 

Because the worst place to be isn't angry.

 

It isn’t even depressed.

 

Because at least in these 2 states we still care.

 

The worst place to be is numb.

 

Apathetic.

Disconnected.

And not even aware of it.

 

One of these women recently told me she feels like she’s not giving enough creatively.

 

She’s one of the most giving people I know, and she doesn’t feel like she’s doing enough….

 

When I left, a thought came to me:

 

I’m really glad people like her exist in this world.

 

I shared that with her… along with this song.

 

So why am I sharing this with you?

 

Maybe you’re someone who feels deeply—but you hold it back.

 

Don’t.

 

It’s a superpower.

Just share it with the right people.

 

Maybe you’re already giving all you can.

 

Thank you. The song below is for you.

 

Or maybe you’ve gone a little numb.

 

That was me at one point.

 

If that’s you… just consider allowing yourself to feel again.

 

You don’t need permission—but if it helps…

 

You have it.

 

Because we’re not meant to live numb.

 

It disconnects us from life.

 

And often, we don’t even realize it.

 

Here’s the song—for anyone who wants to feel again, and for those who already do and make the world better because of it.

 

 

Much love,

Bert