Friday, February 15, 2008

What I have learned so far...

One thing.
When you remove your stand-by coping mechanisms, it is hard to cope.

Imagine you are standing at the just-unlocked door of an old library that you created. There is a dusty beam of sunlight streaming through a thin window to the outside. You stare at that beam for a long time, noting how the dust shimmers and dances as it falls to the floor. On the floor are several books that have fallen off the shelf, and out of curiosity or compulsion to keep things tidy you step in the room to examine those books. The room has a chill because it has not been visited in a long time. The door has been locked, and because there was always some other distraction, the room has been easy to avoid. Upon examination, it is clear that this room is a library of emotions. The books that are on the floor have titles that read Over-sensitive and Resentment and Fear. On the shelf there are books with titles that read Delight and Gratitude and Presence. You have forgotten about these books. You have forgotten that you are the one to choose which books you will keep off the shelf, open on the floor for easy reference. Nobody else is going to mind your library.
It is time to put some books back on the shelf.
We have to constantly be aware that the world is not set up in a way that holds people accountable for how they feel. Without my distractions, my coping-mechanisms, I am forced to examine why I feel the way I do at all times, and at the same time, keeping myself in check that I am not taking myself too seriously. I have come to remember that there is nothing, nothing on the outside that should have the power to make us feel one way or the other. You choose. You are accountable.

I am grateful to have stumbled on the blog of Christine Kane. This post helped me remember there was an old, locked library somewhere.

1 comment:

Gina Ventre said...

Oversensitive, resentment, and fear are the best reads though. I don't like to read (or write) stories about delight, gratitude, or presence. Why is that? I wonder why it's called sentimentality if we do like to read (or write) those things.