Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Home Free! - (part I)

You can’t describe this kind of Christmas. You can’t because there are no words to describe it.

Now I know my Old Dad used to say, and I’ve never forgotten it....”Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” And maybe feeling sorry for myself is what I’m doing, but how do I stop?

Truth is even long-standing addictions are easier to halt than emotions. Emotions are slithery and slippery things that can even crawl through blind-openings.

I mean…Think about it. There are other emotions that are not good, that should, and need to be stopped, but how do we fare with them? You can’t halt worry, or guilt, or regret, or sorrow.

And so, likewise, in an analysis of joy, can we neutralize joy so long as we remain in the midst of a joyful environment. Is it possible to say, “I’m not going to let myself feel good.” and succeed at that endeavor? Perhaps it can be done if one removes themselves from that joyful place and at the same time forces their mind to concentrate with hardened intensity on some negative situation as well.

But of course this is wholly speculative. There are no sample groups to study. So how can anyone know anything about the viscosity of joy or its dilution? Or the indices, weights, and balances of big joy, less joy, no joy, or slight joy?

Cause quite honestly, though the world be flooded with fools, what fool would ever attempt to eliminate joy when it pours down in a grandiose flood?

Now if I might deviate for just a moment, I remember when I was a child coming into my elder sister’s bedroom and discovering her sitting on her bed, her cheeks bathed in tears. I was shocked. Of course kids cry – they’re supposed to, aren’t they? But adults? What’s with that? When there are no visible signs of cuts or abrasions?

I asked her where it hurt and to this she replied.

“You won’t understand this now but someday you will. My feelings have been hurt and when feelings are hurt, it is way more painful than a bump on the head or a skinned knee.”

I thought that bloody stupid. If it don’t bleed, if it don’t smart, if it don’t need a band-aid, it don’t hurt.

Of course, I now know better. It was so solidly reaffirmed this Christmas.

NEXT POST: My sorrows diplomatically revealed.


joared said...

Happy New Year! Hopefully, joy is in the offing for your in 2011.

Well, you certainly raised some interesting thoughts for me with this experience sharing. Your sisters explanation about the pain she was feeling was concretely profound.

I find myself wondering about my similar feelings when they arise. Am I feeling hurt because I'm too sensitive? Have I misinterpreted the acts or words causing the pain? Are there instances when my owning the pain without making the one who caused it aware is best? I know only too well how excruciating such painful feelings can be -- how difficult to expunge them from thought and memory.

Pauline said...

For a moment I thought you were going to share joy - and then I read the NEXT POST note. Getting one's feelings hurt is SO uncomfortable, and as you point out, one can't stop the feelings that ride the waves to follow. I set my kitchen timer for those moments. I allow 15 minutes of pure and awful wallowing and when those feelings ambush me again, I remind myself that I've already felt bad about it and am allowed to move on...

Roberta S said...

Hi joared. I read your comment again and all good questions to ask when one is feeling total dismay. The world would be a better place if in the midst of turmoil, everyone asked themselves these self-same questions.

Thanks for the comment.

Roberta S said...

Pauline, I chuckled when I read your comment. I set my timer for everything I cook, and almost everything I do. I set it for dog feedings and dog walks when I am very busy. I set it for tending to laundry and every other thing imaginable. And then, I don't remember what I set it for.

So this might work for me as long as I'm not timing a cake, or potatoes, or a boiled egg. It is a worthwhile consideration nonetheless and I will keep in mind for some future time. Cause my mind remembers future better than past or present these days.