Sensitivity

I’ve noticed that different people respond differently to things and events.

One person can see a sunset and be overcome with emotion by its beauty.

Another can be totally unmoved—it’s just another sunset.

In music too, I’ve noticed one person can hear a beautiful melody and be overwhelmed by it.

While another person would barely notice it.

It comes down to sensitivity; some people are just more sensitive than others.

Sensitivity is the key to experiencing life at its fullest.

It’s like eating a wonderful dish bursting with flavors.

If you’re not sensitive to all the flavors, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it as much as someone who does.

And so it is too with human emotions.

Some people feel things deeply; others would not even notice anything.

Perhaps this is what’s meant by being thin-skinned and thick-skinned.

There are certain advantages with being thick-skinned. You would not be so much affected by the blows and tribulations of life, because you would barely notice them.

The trade off is that you would also never experience the highs and lows of life.

Life becomes just one long mundane existence.

Whereas someone who feels things deeply, someone who’s thin-skinned will feel and experience life more fully.

So what’s better?

In music, I’ve known musicians who are never nervous, they’re cool as a cucumber when they play, but the problem is, their music sounds equally cool and detached and uninspiring.

And another person would be racked with nerves, but their music would be soaring with expression and emotion.

That’s why there’s beauty in melancholy.

Melancholy is a product of an extra sensitive disposition.

It’s this sensitivity that enables a person to experience life at a deep level, the same kind of sensitivity that enables a person to fully experience a sunset or a thunderstorm.

And in the process experience beauty.