Feelings of A Sentimental Man
"I feel, so I am"
Feelings...
They are part of us, as we are part of them. From birth, in the span of being, and till death, have we ever been apart from them? How can we call ourselves, us, if we do not feel and delve deeper into the aesthetics of nature whose essence spontaneously vibrates and freely heals? Or simply instills in us to feel the subjective abhorrence towards the man's diverse-infinite decadence and disease? And as we grow or shrink, we judge so, those feelings we so feel, to be either good or bad, associated with pleasure and pain, that which is permitted and that which is not.
Feelings...
They are the colors that paint the canvas of life. Red symbolizes love, it is the blood in our veins, which each of us bleeds when cut. It also symbolizes anger or rage against the coming of the inevitable night. Green is lifeforce, sustaining us with vitality and growth, and so on, colors represent different emotions stating different phases of mind and body, till the multiple colors symbolizing multiple meanings find a balance through how fragile, by the grace of destiny, we become who we are as we are meant to be...
Feelings...
On the pedestal of logical supremacy, Science reigns, its principle for the survival of fittest is the vestment of rulership, ardently following which...have we turned blind to the feelings that underly our behavior and decisions? Are our feeling always irrational and as such considered something to be suppressed and cleansed from the logical system? Have we focused so much and for so long on the cold and hard theories that define the reality of the world outside, the physical reality that could be verified, that, have we not even glanced into the superficial mystery of humanity, the emotions that we feel in each and every part of our being on daily basis?
Perhaps not...but now we do!
We, as sentient beings, are beings who feel. We internalize within ourselves and navigate the world beyond, bringing forth ubiquitous feelings natural to us, ascending, and becoming more than life itself. This becoming is our indefatigable struggle for survival and more importantly, the gradual rise as a race, not as a controlled process blessed by logical ascendence but due to our chaotic collective consciousness's triumph over our instinctual selfish gene; above the petty inheritance of fight or flight, that divided us so and continues to. We have harnessed our short-lived experience, relating it to the ancestral memory including any new experience to harmonize or even master, our naive ebullience with sly indolence. With or without the cold-hard-complex logic, we seek the calm comfort of our inner oasis, deep within ourselves, rescuing the self from the scalding surface sensations of the dreary desert termed life, surrounding. We have found or created such a viable option, so to mark it as a sanctuary to rest and convalescence from the fatigue of exploration of our omnipresent limits, excusing the fatigued self for a while from its quest for transcendence meant to vanquish the drudgery of the past, soothe the urgency of the present and pursue an ever-changing future that we look forward to. In hindsight, while we do look at ourselves, from within our comfortable oasis, towards a hopeful future, we in our clever fallacy, always critically perceive ourselves, and position ourselves apart from the rest of modern yet mundane humanity, without realizing we were, are, and will be no different than it.
Feelings breathe life into us and influence each and every decision of ours. They are the foundation; the reality, and the expectation of our identity we perceive and upon which willpower rests. In the bottom of our hearts and even the sacred ground of our minds, if our identity truly does away the feelings, taking them for granted as a burden, we will build ourselves up as a sand castle to eventually raze ourselves down, on the mere whim of the waves of the ocean. Our own free will thus is our own greatest nemesis. We mayhaps then realize too late, what a meager existence we are! an existence that continues for the sake of it, as we think, yet lose the ability to feel anymore... more, even when we are at the most powerful. Especially, when we are at our best, we feel the intense emptiness of being an ego, I, and as its extension, "we" which are forever enslaved by the need to conform to external input or compulsion to synchronize factors, not of our control. Without feeling, or the ability to feel we might reach the epitome of logic, but this logical process and results more often than not, are alien, too superficial, too predictable, and too sure, exiling the part of ourselves that makes us alive; the pursuit of the unknown. We are forever indebted to and ever shackled in the abysmal logic of our own making like the invention and circulation of money. We have created it, yet we are not its master but its slave, spending our years to accumulate it till the last of our breath, slaving away, always. We created it as a solution but it has turned us into predictable creatures, who enjoy the haunted loop of being mired in the complexity of solving things, that could be solved by money, and only money.
Imperfection...
Yet. Feelings are double-edged, it imparts strength and exposes vulnerability. There is an eternal incessant conflict between the different ego's in our minds. Always trying to be sure and failing to recognize what is the most authentic feeling we do so feel. Is this feeling induced by a certain external stimulus or is it even spontaneous as it is intended to be? Thus, it is far too easy to give in to feelings, which incites the most unseemly behavior, or give up and lead to a niche of solitude. As such, we are doubtful, we dither and we fail, being our greatest enemy before we can be, our very own staunchest friend.
Feelings create doubt, pathos gives way to logos and is exploited by ethos, criticizing time and again, why we feel, and the way we do, and as the source of our alter-ego, self-doubt, and our consciousness, it welcomes the measurement of these familiar and strange feelings with the absolute scale of universal pleasure and pain, where preference is for the former and avoidance is for the latter based on how an individual or a group felt and systematized that feeling into a tradition rather than critical thinking, i.e. ever-changing.
As a modern human, the Yes/No man is so blatantly ruled by the material, it is too easy to control him with carrot and stick, the scale of pain and pleasure, for he is a willing victim, deluded with the promise of grandeur, and with its eventual achievement he loses himself amidst the feeling of the momentary euphoria haunted by the deep paranoia of losing what he believes to be his, but in reality, it never is, truly his, this lifetime and the next...So he is hooked, a slave, a cog of the system, forever indentured for the highest bidder.
Yet, again. Feelings if mastered become the inexhaustible fuel to our ascendence from complacency into a worthy contender, who strives for a future, better than the past, without forgetting to live at the moment, to the fullest. Oftentimes, it is the so-called dark-selfish-painful feelings, the hurt, the suicidal moments, the decisive moment of self-mutilation versus self-reflection, and the habitual comfort versus the rare willingness to take an extra mile, that changes us, and guides us to the sublime light, endowing us with purpose, our own. It is not only knowledge, per see, but the lived experience of foolishness, sarcasm, the suffering that lives and breathes with us, every moment reminding us; we are never going to make it. Unworthy, broken, and lost...those teach life's greatest lesson. Suffering is the best buddy, for its knowledge through pain, hurt and depth of loneliness leads us to open-mindedness, to embrace warmly inner happiness in little things, the simple subjective realization of our center in our own universe.
Empathy
To feel and communicate the raw essence of what one feels is difficult and often counters the goodwill of the heart and the best thoughts of the mind. His is the feeling of empathy, a blessing, unwatered, uncared, non-reciprocated, it withers into the source of suffering, where tragedy is a natural process leading to eventual knowledge i.e. inevitable yet being, so, so poignant, unto feelings of unfeeling, the poor man so surrenders.
The yearning of a man is inexplicable and contradictory, he yearns to feel the bliss of completeness, yet, he cannot stop himself from suffering through feeling...
"When you have it all, but there is none with you, to celebrate the triumph you had worked so hard to achieve, worked to the bones! What is the meaning of those hours, days, weeks, months, and years spent?
"When you have loved someone with all of your heart, all your being; body, mind, and soul...What would you do if those tender feelings get crushed with the realization, you are not the chosen one? Would you still feel the same tenderness? Or will it not pain you to see her with someone else...
Would you stop feeling, stop thinking and feeling and trying to make sense of all, what it felt like before... where you have gone wrong, so, so wrong...
And it hurts, hurts so bad when it is true!
An invisible man, a common face in the crowd, once loved the feeling of love, a wonderful feeling, that made him smile with hope, made him cry with rapture, for he had a loved one who loved him. He was and felt different, but now feelings have changed, and he feels and is no different than the crowd, always hurrying, trying to forget the past, never lingering to behold the beautiful Sakura overhead that bloomed so...
Love
Of all the feelings, the most overrated is love. And why not? It is so easy to assume, to make oneself fool out of, to agonize over-over-and-over, again. Love or its mere manifestation is synthesized to be the cause of the greatest suffering in human history. Look at the tragedy of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, love that transcended culture but could not transcend human politics and society built on might is right. The love of Romeo and Juliet created a literary masterpiece is another tragedy where two teens fall in love but die one after another, defeated by an age-old human grudge. Nazi Germany built upon the nationalism of Folk, Vaterland, and collective hatred as a supposed pure Aryan race of blonde hair/blue eyes leading to a system-approved Holocaust, beginning WWII the greatest tragedy of all time
There is no benevolence feeling in any of our emotions for our subjective perception, absorption, reinterpretation, and acceptance are all part of our broken existence. We were born incomplete, and to feel the wholeness of pre-consciousness we seek partners throughout our mortal life. Few succeed or believe (this belief is the reality for them), but the rest of us continue to become disillusioned shattering the "supposed" reality until by the end there is nothing, not even ourselves or "I".
Sentimental
Sentiments... it is not the domain limited to women. For it is the man, the sentimental man himself who lives a life of the fireflies disappearing so, in a wisp unraveling, touching the light, and being light at the very end. Men from early childhood, are made to believe that they should not show emotions explicitly, and it's shameful to even let tears flow easily. Still, be it nearer or farther from one's heart, sentiments are always a reflection of ourselves
Once a hungry man used to wander throughout the city in search of scraps of food. Finally, a day came when he need not search for food came to him, in the form of charity, and so did the comfort of a roof protecting him from the harsh rays of the sun or the cold swelling of rain. For a month he was content, he was happy, yet he missed his days of wandering, the scabby cat who shared food scraps with him, the warmth of fellow desperados, the park, and the joy of being free. So he left it all, to return his days of wandering... hungry and lean days but free...
Freedom and Choice
A happy man believes he has the freedom of choice. But whatever the choice, it is not actually free. Because true freedom does not need a choice, say, do you choose to breathe or not to breathe? Breathing is natural to living and so it is meaningful literal or matter-fact, the very essence of freedom. An environment, person, or element that suffocates and smothers the feeling of freedom, is toxic to our life, mental, physical, or social. Its immediate and natural cure could only be the cutting off of the diseased part, though how painful it is for the sick person, the one who suffers.
Freedom comes with a price, like everything in life. Its implementation and acceptance require tremendous willpower and power that is recognized by other individuals and entities. The level of power determined the level of freedom, and imperceptively the illusion of choices, the more choices, the more freedom it seems to be.
Reality Shaped by Feeling
If we refuse to be ordinary and take away the taxing things that make us, feel as such, feel as we do, and prevent the triggers that incite the feeling of inferiority, constant loneliness, and isolating "cast away", there will be no self-defeating thoughts, only more time, more space, and more energy to give our very limited attention to growth towards a more meaningful life. Why should we feel envy, for strangers who live their life as they see fit? Let them live their life and let us be protagonists for our own epic.
If we believe in the sentiments that arm us with the depth to dive for pearls, if we believe in our humble yet empowering feelings, exploring them not as a victim or conqueror, but as a neutral friend, if we take care of ourselves, cultivate the mind, body and, spirituality, fight for "me" before "strangers", if we forgive ourselves easily, forgive but never forget, tend to the diverse garden of our mind, scrub all the cluttered waste therein, and just trust in self, and even if wrong, rather than blame, learn from it, we could go far, explore our limited, beyond the box we have created for ourselves, then we can return home, in the end, and what a thrilling adventure it will be...indeed!
A Journey To Remember By...
"I do not care for the world, the world does not care for me...lets part beautifully"
- A Chinese Proverb
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