iThink...thereFore, iAm

I received feedback on my previous post, and I’ve given some thought to what’s written there, hence this second post.

Now I have nothing against logic. I partly envy those of us who “live by the mind”, as John Eldredge puts it, because they are able to take things lightly and get things done efficiently. I value that because I work in research, in engineering and I know how important it is for things to move quickly. And I appreciate logic, without which I would not be where I am, would not be able to churn out these articles! Now I couldn’t possibly leave you guys without contemplative and entertaining reads could I?

(That was my ego speaking. It’s getting a little huge. Sit, boy!)

But I cannot deny that there is a large portion of me that is what I feel, what I sense. This portion is where I often cannot explain, where sometimes it has a life of it’s own - this portion is SO HUGE that often I think that my logical portion is a subset of it. (See I can still be logical - “subsets”!)

John Eldredge writes in “Waking The Dead, that those who live by the mind find those who live by the heart “unstable and emotional”, and those who live by the heart find those who live by the mind simple “unavailable”. For the record, living by the heart doesn’t mean that you let emotions overrun you - I think it can be overwhelming (and believe me, I know) but we don’t have to let it take absolute control of us.

I think I’m one of a few. A bunch of us can exercise fully both the heart and the mind - our struggle is often the balance between the two. “Your mind tells you that it is 2AM and your daughter is not home because the car is not back in the driveway. Your heart [decides] whether it is a cause for worry.” (John Eldredge)

I should quantify that emotions are not the heart. I agree with Eldredge on that - and also that emotions are merely the voice of the heart. It is an expression, no more. And as it is with all expressions, it can be expressed in a proper manner.

I envy those who can live by the mind. But in a way I feel sorry for them, because there’s much that they’re missing out. There is much sorrow, anguish, sadness, pain in the heart - but there is also much joy, much peace, much love!

Those who live by the mind or the heart, may not understand the other. Those who try to marry the two within themselves may find conflict, struggle, and we may grow mentally old very quickly as I find myself being so.

But the heart is crucial to our life. Without it, we have missed much. It is from the heart where we become great people, and from the heart we hear God. The mind is important, but so is the heart. For some of us the heart is often stronger, overwhelming and uncontrollable. Neither needs to fade for us to truly live.

“Use your mind to learn - then use your heart to live what you have learnt and change the way you live.”

Everyone tells me they can be controlled, should be controlled, that they don’t have to bubble up to the surface. That emotions shouldn’t control your life, shouldn’t control your time, your actions, and that what you do as part of your life should go on as per normal without change. That you can force yourself out of it, and put a smile on when everything is hurting inside. That you can keep your focus, and that you don’t lose any part of yourself.

I find it increasingly hard to believe that.

My life will go on as it will - I have my responsibilities, my hobbies, my interests, and nothing can change that. My focus remains as it was - centered on my ministry and my Master and Mission. I retain the rituals of everyday life, for no other reason than the fact that they are familiar, and it is also for that reason that I welcome them and they have always existed in a sense of purpose - they are not mere rituals for actions’ sake.

But I cannot, or I do not seem, to forget. Should I? Perhaps it is not to forget that matters, yet “out of sight, out of mind” is a truthful adage. I do not seem to be able to cover my sadness, irritation, anger, annoyance, hurt, etc, under a facade of smiles. How I feel may not affect my responsibilities and the standard which I do them, but it affects the ease of carrying them out and the joy I find in them.

I’m not one of those able to say “to heck with this” and get one with my life - my life will move on, that’s certain, but with a certain heaviness and a certain plodding. When something largely upsetting (to say the least, without using the term “devastating”) stabs you in the heart, I truly wonder what kind of person doesn’t at least feel the pain, regardless of whether his or her life moves forward from then.

Some people are able to say “I’m going to choose to not feel upset about this because it’s a waste of my time”. I wonder if that’s really conducive for growing - there is a process of healing that needs to take place that cultivates a character.  We can choose not to let it affect our actions or decisions, but I don’t really understand the internalization of not feeling certain things. Aren’t we incomplete then?

That being said, this really sucks.

I had the urge to look at myself today, and I was shocked.

When did I become so paranoid, so cynical? When did I become so shaken that every small incident tears my world apart? Not too long ago I was coaxing friends out of paranoia and cynicism, bringing smiles to their lives, so firm a rock that people (even rivals!) would come to me to seek solace.

Where did that go? Was the sense of abandonment so strong that it borders on betrayal? What happened to scar me so deeply that the smiles I bear are the shallow ones that do not spread? How did my world collapse to the point where places of refuges are no longer such, and that I now find safety in isolation, in places that I have long abandoned? Perhaps there is something to be said for nostalgia, in that my mind takes me to places long ago, remembering when I had friends, I had places I could go to feel safe.

They say that the human life is dependent on trust, like nourishment. I am starving, for some reason, maybe because what trust I ever had has been shattered.

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There was no shelter to where I needed to catch a bus home. Before fifty meters, I could already feel my shoes getting squishy, despite careful attempts to not step into puddles - the drops of water that naturally flung up with each step were enough to dampen my shoes for a start.

Squishes became squelches, and then turned into splashes, putting more weight into my shoes, making my steps heavier than they already were.

I stopped at a traffic light, waiting for the green man to turn on so I could cross. I felt the water pour on me - my hair was already wet, and each drop trickled down my scalp onto my forehead or past my ears or down the back of my neck. My collar stopped some of the flow, but those that made it past the shoulder ran down my back - not that it mattered because my pants were already soaked anyway. Some of the rain found its way into my eyes, reddening them before they rolled down my nose and cheeks and eventually off my chin.

I felt each drop of water land on me, run its way down, find the lowest point it could flow to and gather there. It washed over me, cooling my skin, making my clothes stick to me. It mixed with tears that came as I walked down the rainy stormy path, both literally and metaphorically, but if i didn’t say anything anyone would have thought it was just rain. I was, after all, a fool who chose to walk in the rain.

Or was I?

I left my laptop in the office, because I knew I had to take that walk in the rain. I planned to, because I had to feel the torrent on my head, my shoulders, feel the water flow over and let myself be soaked.

I had to walk in the rain, and so I did.

I’m tempted to think what’s the point of it, when all it seems to do is make you left out, and allow other people to take advantage of you while they enjoy themselves grabbing whatever it is they want. When it leaves you hurt, raw and bearing it in silence because you’re a gentleman and therefore speak no ill of another.

I’m tempted to think what’s the point of it, when people show no care or sensitivity to the condition they’ve put you in, and turn around and mock you for being weak, knowing full well that they are the ones who put you there in the first place. And it’s not that i want to announce it to the world or dig up things in my mind that have happened - they often strike me unaware, and only those who conceal their emotions well are able to act normal..and even then it’s just an act.

(On a sidenote, i think it’s really very easy to act all strong and happy when you’re the one to benefit from it and you refuse to face what you need to deal with. It’s a different story when you feel like somone has backstabbed you and turned all tables on you, and still flies around claiming innocence and enjoying what he “reaped”.)

I’m tempted to heck it all and say it’s not worth it, because after 27 years it hasn’t been, and people who do whatever it takes to get their way seem to get it, whether right or wrong.

So tell me, prove it to me, someone - before i change my mind - is it worth it?

And with each passing of the day my hopes lower just a little more.

Should time be a concern? Should it matter, be it now or later?

With each new day my heart rises a bit with the sun.

And with each sunset it sinks again, with a little less hope.