Nothing More Than Feelings

Think about how often we address our feelings. The words “I feel” or “I felt” come out of our mouths countless times in the course of an ordinary day. Okay…this probably applies more to women than to men. Clearly that’s because most men either aren’t in touch with their feelings or had the word feel removed from their vocabulary in the sixth grade when they were issued their man cards. Most of them, however, were savvy enough to retain an option on the word for purposes of saying, “Let me feel your boobs and/or butt.”

Without further digression into blessedly foreign territory, it’s come to my attention lately that we really do give toxic attention to our feelings. A good friend of mine has repeatedly reminded me that “feelings aren’t facts.” Although this is meant to comfort me when I’m experiencing bad feelings, the same does apply to good feelings. We have such a tendency to experience everything in a permanent way. I’m curious about why we do that when, with any time on this earth at all, we’ve certainly seen consistent fluctuation. Bad becomes good. Good becomes bad. Over and over, like the tide.

A long run of bad feelings about tough situations led me, kicking and screaming, to some semblance of clarity. It doesn’t come automatically yet but, once I remind myself that my feelings can’t kill me and that I have control over them instead of the other way around, they lose their oomph. They loosen their grip on my heart and my mind, allowing me to flip a mental switch which restores my ability to conjure better thoughts. That leads to more comfortable feelings. And comfortable is just right.

I tend toward very manic behavior and I’m only now beginning to realize this about myself. When I’m in a frenzy, alphabetizing my spices, obsessively cleaning closets and drawers and doing feng shui in my kitchen cabinets, I’m in big trouble. But it was a long time and a lot of trips to the Goodwill before I started catching myself in the act.

All of this activity used to make me feel (there’s that word again) virtuous and on top of things. And what happens when you’re on top of things? That’s right, Humpty. And I fell (and cracked) over and over again.

Inventory has become such an important part of my life that I feel like a Super Wal-Mart. Constant vigilance regarding my motives, thoughts, actions and, yes–especially, my feelings is necessary to keep me out of trouble in the form of bad behavior, depression, exhaustion and futility. I had to learn to relax. Actually, I had to be forced into submission.

My troops had to be overtaken by the chill-out brigade and this didn’t happen until fighting the circumstances in my life rendered me crumpled and in a heap. Unable to move, I was like that cockroach we’ve all seen. Legs frantically kicking, trying to turn myself over so I could get up and continue ravaging, until eventually there was a halfhearted jab here and there and then stillness. And that wasn’t so bad. I can’t speak for the cockroach but I’ve learned there’s way more power and peace in stillness than in chaos, where there’s none.

And when I’m still, I look at my feelings. I watch them like clouds…drifting and changing shape then floating away as new ones come into view.