Post by Laurel Chaisson on May 19, 2005 20:19:33 GMT -5
May 2004 I wrote this... it seems so long ago when I had such a small understanding of the world and only bare knowledge to go by. I wrote this after months of wrestling with the Feeling, and I'm sure many of you have felt it before as well.
"There are some things in my life that I cannot name with the English language, and likely not in any language. Very few things are unclassified in my mind. All experiences, words, thoughts and feelings are put in their rightful place. Filed where I can find them easily. All things… but one; this feeling.
What is it? How can I attempt to name it if I do not fully understand it? On most levels I do, I understand it more than I understand my own existence. But on others… on others, it is as indefinite as the lives we live.
I have often found myself seeking it’s name in the quietness of the night. Within the anonymous emotion there are many layers, each named and familiar, but when placed in such a mix it doesn’t seem right to call them what they are. It’s as if I’ve baked cookies for the first time. Eggs, sugar and flour are all eggs, sugar and flour… but when mixed and changed chemically they are no longer apart - they are one. And oh, what a marvellous batch I have made! I have mixed love, anger, sorrow, worry and desperation (oh, the forlorn desperation I have within me; it threatens to rule over all flavours!)
I don’t feel the Feeling very often. It’s a rare occurrence and each time I experience it, it is a new yet strangely familiar encounter. My mind struggles each moment to grasp it’s complexity yet slips on the simplicity that so effortlessly hides itself within the layers of emotion.
It comes suddenly, I never have any warning. I only know it is there when it comes. In the back of my mind it leaps from the bushes and ambushes my consciousness. And for an eternity of moments I am caught in it’s web of forever. I am a mouse, and it is the cat; before it swallows me whole, it wants to play with my thoughts and drive me mad.
But when it comes, I cannot help but feel as if it is a positive feeling. One thing makes me know this; the people who spark it’s fire.
I know things many people do not dream of thinking. I hear things many people do not. I see things so many people do not wish to believe exist. It is because of these things that I experience the Feeling. I want humans to know these things. I want them to so desperately, that I cannot stand to see the ignorance they have fallen into… a life where time is the governor and people blindly follow what they don’t understand. They seek a savoir in all the wrong places.
I cannot expect them to unhesitatingly follow my words… but I cannot watch them jump the cliff like hunted buffalo. That is where the Feeling comes in. The stale mate between possibilities. Neither side will fall back and give in. I love them all, yet they anger me for their fear. I worry for their safety and I am discouraged by their lack of openness. More so, I am desperate to do my job and help them. I am desperate to pull them from danger. I am desperate to stop this feeling and I am desperate to understand it.
This Feeling, I cannot name. Not with my small understanding. I know very little of the world and I understand even less. I can never name this Feeling. Ever."
© Laurel Chaisson 2004
"There are some things in my life that I cannot name with the English language, and likely not in any language. Very few things are unclassified in my mind. All experiences, words, thoughts and feelings are put in their rightful place. Filed where I can find them easily. All things… but one; this feeling.
What is it? How can I attempt to name it if I do not fully understand it? On most levels I do, I understand it more than I understand my own existence. But on others… on others, it is as indefinite as the lives we live.
I have often found myself seeking it’s name in the quietness of the night. Within the anonymous emotion there are many layers, each named and familiar, but when placed in such a mix it doesn’t seem right to call them what they are. It’s as if I’ve baked cookies for the first time. Eggs, sugar and flour are all eggs, sugar and flour… but when mixed and changed chemically they are no longer apart - they are one. And oh, what a marvellous batch I have made! I have mixed love, anger, sorrow, worry and desperation (oh, the forlorn desperation I have within me; it threatens to rule over all flavours!)
I don’t feel the Feeling very often. It’s a rare occurrence and each time I experience it, it is a new yet strangely familiar encounter. My mind struggles each moment to grasp it’s complexity yet slips on the simplicity that so effortlessly hides itself within the layers of emotion.
It comes suddenly, I never have any warning. I only know it is there when it comes. In the back of my mind it leaps from the bushes and ambushes my consciousness. And for an eternity of moments I am caught in it’s web of forever. I am a mouse, and it is the cat; before it swallows me whole, it wants to play with my thoughts and drive me mad.
But when it comes, I cannot help but feel as if it is a positive feeling. One thing makes me know this; the people who spark it’s fire.
I know things many people do not dream of thinking. I hear things many people do not. I see things so many people do not wish to believe exist. It is because of these things that I experience the Feeling. I want humans to know these things. I want them to so desperately, that I cannot stand to see the ignorance they have fallen into… a life where time is the governor and people blindly follow what they don’t understand. They seek a savoir in all the wrong places.
I cannot expect them to unhesitatingly follow my words… but I cannot watch them jump the cliff like hunted buffalo. That is where the Feeling comes in. The stale mate between possibilities. Neither side will fall back and give in. I love them all, yet they anger me for their fear. I worry for their safety and I am discouraged by their lack of openness. More so, I am desperate to do my job and help them. I am desperate to pull them from danger. I am desperate to stop this feeling and I am desperate to understand it.
This Feeling, I cannot name. Not with my small understanding. I know very little of the world and I understand even less. I can never name this Feeling. Ever."
© Laurel Chaisson 2004