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Month: September 2019

Feelings, Nothing More Than Feelings

Published by mhelbert on September 20, 2019

Where do feelings come from?

Are they the result of millions of years of adaptation? A stew-like chemistry experiment that has never ended, that just keeps going and going and going….?

They allow us to fear danger and cleave to love. They are at the same time self-serving and self-giving.

Feelings are a Paradox.

Or, perhaps as some insist, Feelings are God-created and God-given. A gift to the Cosmos to be cherished. And, crushed. Because we can’t have those feelings running rampant in the Universe, now, can we? Besides, they are fleeting and cannot be trusted with things like truth and reality. Only faith in an invisible God can provide those.

If from God, then, does God feel? Does this Supreme Being express Supreme Passion?

Feelings are Good. No, wait! Feelings are Bad! No, wait! Feelings are complicated.

Emotions are elusive; effusive. Wisps of vapor that may cumulate and become cumulonimbus thunderheads filled with pervasive power that pummels our hearts casting a wide swath of destruction.

But, also cleansing the atmosphere of our heart. Refreshing. Reclaiming. Rousing us to reach for the mountaintops, even for the stars of heaven.

Why do we try to suppress feelings? Something so basic, yet absolutely intrinsic to who we are as Humans?

After so many years hiking through the wilderness of this life, I think, maybe, perchance, (I’m really not sure), that I am finally beginning to see and grasp something, some understanding (?), of this indwelling power. For, emotions…Feelings…are as important and necessary for our existence as the air we breathe. When stuffed and hidden, we suffocate, wither, and die. Such has been my experience.

But, maybe, just as the withered plant revives when given the life-giving water that courses through its chlorophyll laden veins, I, too, may revive and find life as I open myself to that emotive well-spring of my heart.

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Broken?

Published by mhelbert on September 19, 2019

STOP!

I’m not an object that you can “fix”!

I am who I am. So, deal with it or go away!

I’m not interested in your boundaries. “Who is right? Who is wrong?”

It just doesn’t matter to me.

So, get off it!

You look at me as a problem to be solved. A piece of broken pottery that, maybe with a little Super Glue, you can build me into something that makes sense to you.

Sorry, but NO!

I AM NOT BROKEN!

I AM!!!

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Lying Eyes

Published by mhelbert on September 19, 2019

“You know that I don;t love you,” she said. Her dark brown eyes gazing intently into my blue ones.

“Yes,” said I. “And, I don’t love you.”

As we continued to look into each other’s soul, my mind wandered down a long, dark hallway. At the end there was a door the color of the sky just before the darkening clouds rush in from the West.

Behind the door, a room like someone’s attic. It was filled with boxes written upon with “Kitchen,” or “Master Bdrm.” There were old lamps and even a broken down old refrigerator. All of these coated in a thick layer of dust accumulated over many years of lying here.

Hidden.

Unwanted.

Forgotten.

A sudden movement caught my eye. I glanced to my left and saw a tiny flash of light. I walked toward it, moving some old box, “Misc. Junk.” I looked down and saw a small creature. It reminded me of a firefly that floated silently above the floor. But, this was no insect. It had arms and legs. There was a face framed by golden hair cut short in a sort of bob cut.

I was caught, captivated, enthralled at this sight. “I’ve never seen anything like you!” The creature flew up so that we were face to face. Her radiant smile, (for the creature was surely a “Her”), spoke to my heart in ways that words cannot possibly express.

“I have been here for a very long time,” she said. “I have waited these many long years hidden among the dusty clutter of your heart. Waiting for this moment.”

With that she dove into my chest.

What warmth! The heat spread from my chest to my arms, my legs. It surged like a tsunami to by mind.

And, then I knew.

Suddenly, I was back sitting across from her. Her brown eyes still gazing into mine.

And, I saw a light within those eyes.

“We say there is no love. Yet, our eyes,” says I, “our eyes say Yes.”

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Where the Wind

Published by mhelbert on September 18, 2019

My heart hurts.

Torn by the Wind

Casting Aeolian dust in a minor key.

Obscuring hopes of enlightenment.

Darkening the landscape with glass mites that bore and shred,

Creating raw contours. Exposing nerve and synapse to

Elements tormenting.

How this affectation effects affection?

Where is affection?

I don’t know.

Lost to the Wind.

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It’s Wednesday…

Published by mhelbert on September 18, 2019

Dear Diary,

Well, here we are. September 18, 2019. Hump Day.

Whoopee fizz.

While it may be true that the Sun will come up today somewhere, a shadow remains over my heart. I can’t see what’s casting that shadow.

The darkness is palpable. A chill has settled over the verdant fields of my soul. The bright colors of green, yellow, and red have become monochromatic; gray and dull.

Where are the birds that skitter in the bright, blue sky? Their songs expressing joy and gaiety in far better language than 240 characters allow.

Have the deer lost their ability to bound over the hills and through the vales that texture my dreamscape? It seems so.

Yet, there is hope.

Because somewhere, the Sun will arise.

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Introspection

Published by mhelbert on September 12, 2019

I’m getting older.

Ok. That’s no surprise to anyone. We all are.

But, as I approach retirement sometime next year, I’ve spent considerable time in self-reflection. I search within to see if there actually has been any purpose to this life of mine.

I find little there.

Yeah, I followed the path that stretched before me. A path, by the way, that was mapped and defined by minds and wills other than my own. I have had my shares of humanity’s ubiquitous ‘Ups and Downs.’ Clearly, nothing out of the ordinary. I experienced many things that others have not. Some good; some not so much. Overall, my time walking this life has been functional, yet nondescript.

I have not had to struggle like so many in the world. Creature comforts have been available to me. I don’t need to walk 5 miles to a common well in order to have water to drink. There are several taps in my house that readily deliver that life sustaining liquid. Nor, am I required to sit and beg or dive into dumpsters for food. My local Mega Mart has everything that I could possibly want or need to satisfy the grumbling in my gut. Clothes, shelter, family…all of the things that seem to define the so-called American Dream have materialized before me.

So, what do I lack? For I must lack something.

In all of my travels and experiences I have never truly experienced happiness.

Maybe, happiness is simply overrated. I was told many years ago that as a Christ follower I should have something called ‘Joy.’ They said that happiness is nothing but a counterfeit version of Joy. We should not seek that at all.

But, when in every waking moment it feels like I have a Dementor from the world of Harry Potter sitting on my shoulder, well, something is amiss.

People I talk to about this don’t understand. They look at the stuff I have and the things that I’ve experienced and tell me that I should be glad.

Yet, the emptiness, the sadness remain.

“See a doctor and get some medication because what you describe sounds like simple depression that can easily be treated.”

Nope. Been there; done that. Medication doesn’t help. It only flattens my emotions until I feel nothing at all. Better to feel pain than everlasting numbness.

“Jesus is the answer to all of your problems.”

I’m sorry to say that’s simply not true. Contrary to what so many in the fundagelical world say, there is no God Shaped hole in us that only Jesus can fill. But, there does seem to be something that is missing. But, God isn’t it.

“Eat, drink, and be merry,” Qoheleth encourages. For what else is there for humanity to enjoy? Well, I can do one of those three things. Drinking is off the table because, well, I’m a recovering alcoholic and that wouldn’t be a good thing. Be merry? Well, that’s kind of the point of this post. Being merry eludes me.

Now, before anyone decides that I must be broken and that you are the one person in the world appointed to fix me.

Don’t. Please.

I’m not broken.

Sad? Yes.

Lonely? Ok.

Unsatisfied? Definitely.

But, this is how I feel. And, yes, feelings matter.

I have no intention of throwing in the towel and surrendering to despair. I also have no intention of lying to myself about my own reality.

Yeah, I’m getting older. But, as Dylan Thomas wrote,

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I intend to follow his lead.

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