How to Feel
She walks onto stage from the left direction. Or maybe she walks onto the stage from the right. Maybe she’ll fly onto stage, attached hideously by transparent wires. Maybe she’ll appear out of nowhere, or so you’ll think.
She’s going to walk placidly and elegantly. She’s going to walk like a walking, swaying coconut tree from Cuba. Or she’s going to walk like a stoic tiger with such majestic marching and a powerful face. Maybe she’s going to walk with shaking knees, barely supporting her body, as she breaks down into a fountain of woe onto the hard, oak floors.
Regardless of where or how she’s going to walk onto stage, she’s going to sing, chant, dance, or dictate your life to you; if only you could write it for her.
- Fly a kite. Fly a beautiful, hand-painted kite. Make sure it has lots of decorations on it, but make sure it’s light enough to fly. Make sure it isn’t going to rain, and make sure you have the time. Fly it around in circles and with pride. Show it to everyone and make them stare in awe. Share the feeling with them as you realize that you’re carrying your own creation, flying under your control until you let go. Now let go and watch it soar away. Will you feel proud that your creation is proudly flying away on its own, or do you feel rejected and unsatisfied that you no longer have a kite to your command?
- Take a walk Downtown and watch everything that you might pass. Many buildings, many cars, many people, but most of all, many different smells. Some might smell pleasant like a migrated taste of Hong Kong, with such unusual but pleasing scents from the traditional culinary requests; some might smell as fowl as a sewer, so bitter and rancid and nearly venomous. Stop walking and turn around. Suddenly, you might see things you never realized were there, like displays of fruits, or a staircase that led to nowhere. Maybe you’ll even see cheap jewelery on the street, resting beside a person with ragged clothing and a dirty face, begging anyone to pay attention. If only attention were so easy to buy.
- Walk down a hall with your eyes closed. You’ll automatically try and feel around to see where you are, and you’ll try to hear everything that you could possibly hear. Feel yourself tumbling onto walls and walking into objects that you knew were there, but seem to no longer have the connection to know where it is. Feel how vulnerable you really are when you lose such an important quality of life.
- Sanitizer. Sharp, bitter, but nonetheless clean. It smells like a hospital, doesn’t it? You can see anything here. A man with a missing arm, a woman giving birth, a child with a broken leg, but mostly blood. Now, let’s stop looking at people. Look around and just pay attention to the colours of the wall, the used and abused heart monitor, or the emotionally exhausted four-seated chair, each consoling a delicately-seated desperate family, or complimenting the pressure that comes from an excited, anticipated father. Just imagine if you were a chair – always having to listen to the changing winds of mood, but never really had much of a purpose other than providing comfort for people that never really knew you existed.
- Sleep, dream, and wake up again. You’ll never lose emotional exhaustion if you don’t do something for yourself for a change. Sleep is a good start.
- Hug or kiss someone. Hold them like you’ve yearned for them for years. But most of all, realize that their presence is there, and that presence is not fixed and stable. It can disappear like dropping a pin in a hill of leaves; it’s easy to drop, and nearly impossible to find again.
Had love not existed, none of these would make sense. To feel is to love, but to love is to begin to feel. I’ve began to feel again.
heey there.
kasi August 6, 2007 at 2:05 pmlove the layout its neat,
keep up the great job.
xox.
kasi of