Our emotional state may have little relationship to the situation of the moment; we process time, outside of time. We all know that. A minute can feel like an hour, a week like a minute, but I’m thinking of something else, how what we feel, that whole complex mess of our emotional state, is outside time…. pushing to re-enter the moment, the moment that itself has nothing to do with time, but is our connection to … everything happening, from the center of our body outward in concentric — or perhaps — not so concentric, rings.
In thought, we step out of — away from — the real, but our feelings aren’t like that. They are always connected–why we can’t control them–how, when we’re stuck in our thoughts–they seem not even a part of us. But they are… us. They are what we are–in the uncontrollable wilderness of the Real.
I have a Faerie Alter. Because my thinking self wants to explain this, because it’s not about belief in anything outside of material reality–I say, I want to nourish the contradiction, and let it go at that. But who am I talking to when I say this? My feelings have no need for that explanation. It’s always the thoughts, trying to capture, and own… what is beyond knowing.
Last night, around 1:00 am, when I was going to bed, I lit a candle on the Faerie Alter (no longer “my” alter… ). Someone had told me they were being treated for some medical condition. This morning I received an email. Last night, at 1:00 am, the person I’d been thinking about, had surgery for appendicitis.
To say — to explain this as a coincidence, or to claim that it must be something more, are two ways our thinking self removes us from the aporia… the uncontrollable real.
… how much of the anxiety, the trauma of memories… are but my feelings, pushing, struggling, to return me to the Moment … to become again… or at last… an animal at home its world?
Jacob Russell's Magic Names 