MSI Press Blog

  Recently,  Learning to Feel  (Girrell), reached #214 on the Amazon bestseller list of psychologist biographies. Book Description:  Learning to Feel, Second Edition,  teaches readers how to gain choice and authority over their emotional states. Feelings and emotions are reactions to the deeply held beliefs and experiences of our lives. In order to become fully emotionally intelligent - that is, to be able to know what is yours, what comes from the others, and how best to respond to those others - we must connect first to those core experiences and often re-interpret the meaning they have held for us.  Learning to Feel  is such a journey, intended to be a set of trail blazes for anyone who wishes to up their game in the realm of emotional intelligence. (Edition 1 was selected for the Independent Press Distinguished Favorite Award and a Literary Titan gold award.) First Edition Book Awards Literary Titan Gold Award Independent Press Award Distinguished ...

  Somewhere between kindergarten and adulthood, many of us learn that emotions are like elbows at the dinner table: best kept tucked in. We’re taught to smile politely, cry discreetly, and never—under any circumstances—rage in public unless we’re winning an Oscar. But emotional expression isn’t just personal. It’s cultural. It’s generational. It’s shaped by everything from family lore to workplace norms to the unspoken rules of grocery store etiquette. Society doesn’t just influence how we feel—it influences whether we’re allowed to show it. 🎭 The Performance of Composure In many Western cultures, emotional restraint is equated with maturity. We admire the “strong silent type,” reward stoicism in crisis, and label vulnerability as weakness. Crying at work? Unprofessional. Expressing anger? Unhinged. Admitting fear? Better keep that to your therapist. But this performance of composure often comes at a cost. We suppress grief until it leaks out sideways. We mask anxiety with pr...

  Let’s begin with a confession: I used to think emotions were like weather—unpredictable, inconvenient, and best endured quietly until they passed. I preferred the sturdiness of logic, the clarity of action, the safety of detachment. But somewhere between caregiving crises, spiritual retreats, and late-night porch conversations with my multigenerational household, I began to suspect that emotions weren’t interruptions to growth—they were the curriculum. Emotions as Teachers, Not Tourists We often treat emotions like uninvited guests. Anger? Slam the door. Grief? Hide the good china. Joy? Let it in, but only if it promises not to rearrange the furniture. But what if emotions aren’t visitors at all? What if they’re residents—part of the architecture of our inner lives? Personal growth isn’t a tidy staircase. It’s more like a spiral—revisiting old wounds with new wisdom, circling back to joy with deeper reverence. Emotions guide that spiral. They point to what matters, what hurts...