Feeling It

There are a lot of things I'm feeling these days, physically.  Overwhelming feelings at times, and usually not pleasant.

But all the uncomfortable feelings I'm having in my body do not remotely compare in potency with the emotional feelings I'm bombarded with nearly constantly.  These are good feelings, amazing feelings, profound feelings.  More than anything else, I'm feeling totally and completely loved.

This baffles me on a number of levels.  Not the fact (simple or astounding in itself that I'm loved), but that it takes such an extreme moment to feel it.  I personally love a whole lot of people, with a fierce appetite that -- when I think of it -- almost feels unbearable.  At this moment in my life, I am thinking about those people, and my intense love for them, a lot.  I am also lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that kind of devotion as well.  I am very very blessed by that, of course -- that is unquestioned and appreciated -- but it raises the bigger question: why now?

Why are we like this, that we can only feel these powerful positive emotions when there is a threat, or a crisis, or a fear of loss involved?  Why does it take cancer or earthquakes or extreme disruption to cause us to see our friends, our family, our acquaintances, even the entire concept of our fellow human beings with a new sense of compassion and appreciation?

What this means is that, when we're doing well and don't have cancer, everyone annoys the fucking fuck out of us, right?  That asshole in the BMW who just took three lanes to make the turn onto Fair Oaks.  Those morons at the pharmacy.  Those goddamn kids who leave trash on our back parkway (OK, actually, my compassion right this moment doesn't quite extend so far out as to include them, but... in theory... sure... let's move on before I get so sick that I love them too).  You get my point.

When everyone is healthy and our lives are going fine, our status quo is one of crankiness, resentment, and petty annoyance.  When we're on the battle lines, suddenly the scope of our perspective shoots way far out and -- as long as we're not bleeding our of our eyeballs -- we're all good!  The world is a beautiful place!  We are filled with a sense of loving and being loved.

I am deeply deeply hoping that, when all this is over, I can retain some of this perspective.  This goes along with the "let's learn this lesson the easy way, people" thing I wrote the other day.  We can all stay sick, moving from crisis to crisis, to get this hit of profound joy and connectedness or... maybe?... we can just take the hit voluntarily.  Keep this vastness in mind and incorporate that perspective a little bit more.

We all love and are loved.  I believe that is really true.  And if you don't feel it, look a little deeper.  Who sticks by you even when you're being an asshole?  That's love.  Who takes care of you even when you don't really appreciate it?  That's love.  And who do you do that for in return?  You may rail and rant and chafe about certain people in your life, but... as long as you give a shit enough to let them bug you... you still love them on a certain level.  Maybe?  Possibly? 

I have always been able to give it out, but taking it has been more difficult.  The ability to feel loved is being mindfully cultivated these days.  I'm letting people take care of me.  I'm accepting I'm not super woman and being OK with not trying to pretend so much that I am. (Ironically, I believe this is concurrently making me stronger.)  Far more radically, I'm taking all this love being thrown at me and incorporating it into my attitude towards myself.  YOWZA!  Self compassion!  That's a big one...and a subject for a completely new post.

In the meantime... my job is to continue to feel it.  Feel the bigness.  Feel the expansiveness.  We all have a life threatening disease.  To whatever extent that helps us appreciate the bigger picture -- in all its fullness and glory -- we need to use it to help us keep that perspective.