I’ve been a lot of thoughts today. A lot of thoughts that seem haphazard and disjointed. And yet, I cannot help but wonder if they go together much more than I think.
I feel. And I feel thick. My pendulum for emotions swings full and hard. And I hate it. It’s never made sense to me, and I’ve tried so hard to bury those feelings deep, deep in the earth of my soul. And yet always, without fail, those feelings prove themselves stronger than I give credit, and erect themselves again only to expose me like the traitors and bullies that they are. And I am the one left there, in the cold, vulnerable, confused, and embarrassed.
I sent a piece to a friend yesterday. “This is me. This is some of me. This is what I’m willing to share.” It said to him. “When did you write it? Do you still feel that way?” he responded. I thought it was an easy piece. Inspiring, encouraging, but easy. No need to throw out all the dirty laundry at once, yeah? But He still picked up on it. On them. On the feelings. “Do you still feel that way?” His question lingers in my mind. I tried to bury them deep in the earth, and still they erected themselves and exposed me. Traitors.
I sit in front of the mirror and stare and think. Think about his words. Think about mine.
“Do you still feel that way?”
I ask the mirror. Doesn’t everyone? And suddenly I am hit with a thought so heavy it is as thick as a humid, Georgia summer in my mind. Doesn’t everyone? We all feel. Some heavier than others, but we all feel. And yet, what if we don’t know that we feel. What if we don’t know what we feel. What if that is why I am here. What if that is why all the deep feelers are here. What if the deep feelers were made to feel things harder to help the others feel, grief for grief, as it were.
What if it’s not a mistake? What if I’m not a mistake. What if you aren’t a mistake. I know I’m not the only one out there. I know I’m not the only one who walks day in and day out, feeling more than her fair share, walking with heart full, aware of my pain, aware of theirs, trying desperately to make sense of it all. Grief for grief. And I cannot get the thought out of my head. What if we are made to feel thick to give word and expression to those who can’t?
We live in the thickets, the deep feelers. We live in the thickets, walking through bramble and thorn, feeling each scratch for them. And there are days that it feels weary. And there are days we cannot feel another feeling. And there are days that we wonder why we aren’t like the others. But there are days they wonder why they aren’t like us. Reaching out, hands open, wishing just once to grasp more than enough. Wishing to grasp more, so much more.
I talk to my friend Amanda about this constantly. Asking her why I am so broken. Why my emotional pendulum does indeed swing full and tears pour easier than the rest of them. Whoever the them is.
“I wish I could feel more.” She says. “I wish I could experience the emotional reaction that comes so easy to you.” She speaks and my world stands still.
Because truth is, we belong together. And we need each other. And just as they help us to step out of the thickets, to live and be free and let go and enjoy, so we help them, to live and be free and let go and enjoy. Tit for tat of the emotional sort. Tit for tat of the healing sort. Because if we never felt the pain, walked in the aching, the uncomfortable, the overwhelming, the great, the beautiful… If we never showed them the extremes, how would they know what to reach for? And if they never walked through the day, balanced, at ease, persistant and consistant, how would we learn to stop and just be?
Truth is, we are bound to each other, woven together through this thing called humanity. Each with a different role, but none less needed than the other. And to see ourselves as mistakes is to alter the story. We are bound to each other. Opposites attracted. Positive and negative charges, each extremes in their own right, and maybe on their own they can seem too much or not enough, but together we create so much balance that life sparks, and the foundations of humanity exists. We are altogether atom. Proton, electron, and neutron, each its own role, each necessary to enhance the other. The scientists say they are composed of quarks, those electrons and neutrons. Up, down, charm, strange, top and bottom. But could it be we are composed of quirks? The ups, the downs, the charms, the strange, the top, the bottom? Yes, I think so. Each our own charms, each our own bit of strange. The ups and downs, the top and bottom or that is, our own beginning and end, but not mistakes. Never mistakes. We are altogether atom. And when we live our role, life sparks, and beauty is made.
I’ve been a lot of thoughts today. A lot of thoughts that seem haphazard and disjointed. And yet, I cannot help to wonder if they go together much more than I think. I cannot help but wonder if maybe we go together much more than we think. We are not haphazard. We are not disjointed. We are altogether atom, woven together through this thing called humanity. Each with our own charms, our own bit of strange, our own beginning and end, our own ups and downs. But never mistakes. Not a single mistake. We are altogether lovely, altogether perfect, fearfully and wonderfully made.