Feelers and Doers

The way I’ve always seen it, the world is filled with two types of people: the feelers and the doers.  Obviously feelers do and doers feel.  The difference is more what they do in times of stress or disaster.  Some people get really focused and look for what needs to be done and they do it.  They are organized and efficient and they get things done.  Other people don’t.  They find themselves huddled in the middle of a crowd, on their knees, in tears.  Or as was the case today, it a car in a dark parking lot.

I always thought that it was a weakness that I wasn’t a doer.  They were the responsible ones, the productive ones, the leaders and the achievers.  Awhile back, someone tried to convince me that feelers are needed too.   That the world needs people who can feel their pain deeply because then they can feel other’s deeply as well and can hold space for them and their pain.

I don’t know whether this is true or not.

All I know is that it sucks to be a feeler who must be the doer.

I’m not built for it.  I’m not strong enough for it.

Over the last two days, I’ve noticed myself getting more and more numb.  This surprised me because one thing I never am is numb.  But it was happening, and I figured I would go for it.  It would get me through the next few days.  The next few days that feel insurmountable.

But then we got in the car tonight, and I just started crying.  Silently because I didn’t want the kids to hear.  They heard though.

Somehow we have kept it together.  Everyone is fed and dressed.  The dishes were done.  And for some reason I keep doing laundry.  Load upon load of laundry.  I haven’t had time to fold it and put it away , so it is sitting in a mountain in our living room.  But something about putting in a load of laundry makes me feel useful.  And productive.  And it allows me to pretend that I’m a doer.

Because even if the world benefits from people who feel just a bit too strongly, it’s not easy, and I would much rather be a stoic.

But if you need any laundry done this weekend, send it over.  I’m your person.  Just don’t expect me to iron it.