Silience: The brilliant artistry hidden all around you.~John Koenig (From The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows)

More than a few people have told me, "Priscilla, you're all about 'the feels.'" I guess it's true. I love emotions. I love to feel. I love to hear how others are feeling. I believe God created us to feel. He feels, so why wouldn't we be attracted to our emotions? 

I know it's popular to provide the caveat: "Not that we're to be led by emotions, mind you." Sometimes I think that kind of thinking may be too limiting. Overly practical on days. 

Frequently I'm overcome by what beauty the sky brings to me. And each day it's different. New colors. Gliding clouds. You probably get tired of me writing about the sky. Yet sometimes I get teary when I look up and see what it offers to me. Glad tears.

And music. I listen to music while I write, and sometimes the melodies seem to penetrate my heart. The amalgamation of the words and the strains of music blend together to allow peace and clarity to emerge. I feel such joy when I'm creating. I guess we all do. Perhaps creating things is one of the healthiest ways to express emotion.

It had come down to the simple fact that life was harder than anyone had told him it would be.~Elizabeth Brundage (From The Vanishing Point)

The movie was a cinematic tributary I seldom navigate. Science Fiction. The premise was so intriguing that I couldn't resist. The movie, Nine Days, follows a man who spends his days in a remote outpost watching live Point of View on TVs of people going about their lives until one subject perishes, leaving a vacancy for a new life on Earth. The man then gathers several unborn souls to consider for providing them an opportunity to live. For nine days, each candidate is exposed to a multitude of experiences, both positive and negative, so they can get an idea of what they might expect if chosen to live. Eventually, the interviewer begins to rule out the candidates, one by one. However, before they are let go into oblivion, he asks each of them to write down one pleasurable, memorable event that he will re-create for them before they depart. 

One candidate chooses a day at the beach where he experiences the tide breaking in and the low soothing rushing sound of the ocean--the feel of sand sifting through his fingers, a warm breeze. Another chooses riding a bicycle on a pathway that takes her through tree-covered hills and a wide blue sky overhead. All of the candidates beg for a chance to live. The interviewer is empathic toward their craving to keep living as he has once lived on earth. He knows it will take extreme resilience. No one can tell them how difficult it will be, nor how wonderful.

Polite inclusion is the gateway drug to Mercy.~Anne Lamott (From Hallelujah Anyway)

I stood at the edge of the playground, its vast blacktop like another continent. I was eight years old and had started a new school. I had no friends. No familiarity. That first week of school, I wistfully looked out across the expanse at girls jump roping or hopscotching on numbered rectangles. Boys running and laughing amidst a game of dodge ball. I ached to belong.

This week a good friend told me his spouse had let him down. Excluded him. There is almost nothing more emotionally painful.

Let my passion for life be restored, tasting joy in every breakthrough you bring to me.~Psalm 51:13 (From The Passion Translation)

I asked myself what would the taste of joy be like. 

Over the last few months, I've participated in a behavior modification program around food. It was advertised as a weight loss program through my health insurance company. I initially signed up to shed pounds. But the process became much more holistic. The skills learned were not only about eating less and moving more, but also about slowing down and really tasting food when hunger bloomed. Enjoying all the flavors bursting on one's tongue. Allowing the brain time to catch up with the feeling of fullness. Experiencing satisfaction. Relishing the feeling of confidence when clothes began to fit better. Noticing the food cravings, letting them pass and experiencing victory. Breathing into the now, mindful of pleasure.

Perhaps these kind of sensations carried over in relation to tasting joy on the palate of my life...

Despite everything, I believed somehow there was time.~Lily King (From Euphoria)

He died suddenly while mowing his lawn. Somehow I wasn't surprised that he passed away while conducting a task. He prioritized work, performance and productivity. He found it hard to let go, to stop checking off items on the list, to stop worrying about what he would do if everything was lost in a hurricane or if his money ran out or if he could no longer accomplish the maintenance on his home. Or if he ended up alone. I asked him once what he most enjoyed. "Music," he said. "I used to go to concerts all the time." "What if you went soon?" I said. "Nah, I've got too much to do. Besides who would I go with?" "But what if you went anyway?" I challenged. He just smiled and shook his head.

The next time I saw him he said, "Guess what?" "Tell me," I said. "I went to a concert. By myself. It was outdoors, so I took a blanket and a picnic. Priscilla, I sat there and let the music absorb me. It was dusk, the sky beginning to fill with stars, the sky that kind of blue that makes you want to cry. All the songs of my youth. Memories galore. And it was really okay that I was alone. I didn't feel lonely, surrounded by all the other people and the music."

"Sounds like you grabbed a moment. Lived your life," I said.

"Yes. For once."