“Own the Feeling That Nags” U2?

So my typical morning routine consists of the following—it’s pretty simple. Before I’m up and out the door for walking my Sadie or heading into training, I wake up around 4:50, start the coffee, and hop right back into bed (Sadie too). Headphones on, cue music, and well... I’m either writing because I had some kind of dream or thought that was apparently so profound it waved in my head and body all night, or I’m checking out others who might have had the same experience in their dreams.

You know, the ones who are writing and publishing on LinkedIn too.

See, there are some really talented “creators” on LinkedIn. Yes, they have day jobs too, but man, some of the talent these creators hold—it’s humbling. You’ll find them nestled between the “so thrilled to be chosen for…” kind of posts. (No shade—I do them too. That’s what LinkedIn is for. But there’s so much more.)

I’ll point them, these creators, out from time to time. (see comments)

So, in a text exchange yesterday with Jim Galovski , I was directed toward one of the best creators that ever—and I mean ever—lived. Bono. Yes, our friend Bono. The world is still applauding him, rightfully so, for being honored recently with the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

I mean, yes, we are divided politically as a country—no doubt about that. But everyone, and I mean everyone, should be able to get behind this. Behind Bono.

Maybe it’s because he’s seen a thing or two—like real human suffering—that he has such a wildly and worldly perspective, one that only he can share. He’s an Irish kid who can explain this “idea” of American freedom to us—yes, to us, the Americans—better than any president, philosopher, or really, anyone, ever has. And that’s not political (unlike the young Bono), that’s just, well, truth.

So, digging deeper—as I like to—and loving it when friends encourage me to (thanks, Jim), I’m sent this: 60 Songs That Changed Bono’s Life.

I mean, interesting, right? Because I’m sure there’s a Bono song that changed your life too.

If you’re around my age, I’m betting there is.

For me, it was “Mothers of the Disappeared.” That one hit me differently. I actually wrote about it recently, and I’ll drop that in the comments for you to check out. You’ll be amazed and heartbroken if you don’t already know the story behind it.

It’s dirty, indeed.

And as someone who loves both music and storytelling—and the deeper stuff behind all that—I start going through these letters from Bono to the artists. And one, as I like to say, stops me in my tracks.

It a letter from Bono to one of my favorites, and it’s about one of my favorite pieces of art, creation, and, I guess you’d call it, a “song.” (it’s so much more than that).

everything I wanted by Billie (Eilish, of course).

It’s #3 on my playlist, but one I’ve listened to no less than three million times. Especially in the morning. It’s such a morning vibe kind of “song.” When it’s still dark, the house is quiet, and I’m thinking about the day ahead. That moment when the black sky lifts (so quickly, by the way) to my favorite grey-blue behind the fingers of the trees, and then, just a little pink hue on the morning horizon. All of it, right out my window, as I write.

Listening, thinking about everything I wanted.

And then there’s Bono’s note to Billie. I mean, first of all, can you imagine being Billie? Of course, she’s fucking amazing in her own right—no doubt about that. A poetic powerhouse, a true artist of artists, a creator, just amazing. But to get a letter like this, where Bono is literally fan-boying over you?

Wow. Just wow.

What was her day like after that? Did she even know what to do with herself? She probably couldn’t write or sing a thing. I mean, how do you create anything else after that? I imagine she just bit her nails over it for a while.

So anyway, there’s a line—words that Bono strung together in true Bono style. In a way that, I think, no one else ever has. He says, “You express it so you can own the feeling it nags.”

Let’s say that again: You express it so you can own the feeling it nags.

And those words—they sang right into my soul. Yes, that’s it. That’s exactly what she’s doing. Her vulnerability, her bravery. She is both “fearless and worrisome.”

Let’s say that again too: fearless and worrisome.

I have to sit with my hand on my chest and just breathe that in for a while.

Now, I’m not comparing myself to Billie or Bono (unless you allow me to), but I can say, without a doubt, with every bit of certainty in my soul, that I get that. I get it completely.

Expressing to own the feeling it nags.

That’s what the waves in my dreams are all about. That’s what the sense of urgency, the fervor, when I know, I know, I know I need to say, or do, or write something. It’s because it nags.

Actually, sometimes it even screams.

Screams.

And sometimes, whether anyone gets it or not, I feel totally fearless and worrisome.

They sound like opposites—fearless and worrisome—but they’re not. They’re vibrating on the same chord, just at different frequencies.

So, thank you, Bono.

Thank you, Billie.

Thank you, Jim, for all of the deep shit to start my day.

It puts a fearless and worrisome smile on my face.

To own the scream.

And now, I’m ready to go get everything i wanted.