It May Be the Last

It's interesting to think about emotions; about the physical and spiritual. Where would scientists claim emotions are felt? In the heart? There is no medical evidence of any physical attribute which causes emotion there. In the mind? Perhaps, due to the production of certain hormones our body releases under certain circumstances, which our mind then perceives or interprets as a "feeling". But I must say it makes more sense that they are felt, even generated by our spirit.

And how unusual that a phenomenon that can't be "proven", only felt, can so acutely effect us physically. As I was thinking about my dad and looking at old pictures of him, my heart swelled, my eyes grew moist, and I swear I began to feel a pain in my chest. Not really "heart broken", but not pleasant either. Like the emotion got to be too much for my physical body to bear. But how strange for me to feel it in my chest; to feel it in my heart. Even now the feeling lingers. And it feels like a presence; a spirit or spirits who are near. Not necessarily my dad's . . . perhaps even my own. But I'm not alone. I wonder if spirits are present with every emotion we feel. Perhaps. Perhaps just the deep, true emotions. But as I think back on times of great fatigue, sorrow, happiness, joy, depression, confusion, overwhelm, intrigue, uncertainty, contentment, etc I have never felt alone; I have felt I shared those emotions with someone, even if I was alone, physically, at the time. Or is it that we are never alone, but only when we are emotional are we sensitive enough to notice?

I have changed . . . no evolved . . . so much the past year and a half. Physically (50 pounds lighter, a bit more gray hair, and more visible laugh lines, a.k.a wrinkles), mentally (I've had so much to think about and learn from life), and spiritually. I feel like I did in my teen years. I'm not sure who I am, then I see who I am again, and then I have to get used to who I am and understand myself. It's not unlike a butterfly metamorphisis. I am content. More content with who I am than I have ever been, but life's trials and my insecurities remain unchanged. Perhaps the contentment stems from my new knowledge of the afterlife.

This life is all too short, you know. Just a drop in the bucket. While watching the reunion slideshow my cousins made, I was overcome by all the memories I've had and the things I've learned from them and the person I became as a result of them. It was overwhelming in a positive way. I felt so blessed to have those memories and to be the person I am. But then I thought about my other memories . . . the ones I was forced to forget when I was born on this earth. What will it be like to remember them as well? What pride and pleasure it will be to see the true timeline of my existence! There is no way we could physically bear those memories because of the emotions they would evoke. Not in our present physical state.

I know I should also be fearful (and I am) about my future. Knowing so well that life is short, will I be prepared for my judgment? No. Never. It is frightening. But I can't be paralized or overwhelmed by that fear . . . that would just be self-fulfilling prophesy. I can only continue on putting my best foot forward, and making mistakes, and picking myself up again, and continuing forward... always willing to humbly learn from my own faults... always willing to do the work required to be better.

My view on life is certainly evolving too. Every moment feels like it could be the last. Not that I have to run off and build homes for the homeless or see the Eiffel Tower, or even spend every moment with my loved ones. . . (that would be exhausting). :) But I can live each moment with more emotion, more intent, more knowledge, more purpose... more spiritual understanding. I can live my life in such a way that my spirit (the "me" who remembers much, much more than what can be recalled by photographs) can be content. Not "proud", because I am too insecure by nature; too hard on myself; too unsure; too many faults; too many mistakes. But content in knowing that I'm trying my best in this weakened state. My dad doubted his life. And he was a wonderful man. Doubted that he did enough to pass God's judgment. So I'm sure I will always feel that way too. But we don't give up. We know what we need to do. And we find joy in it.

That is my way of living each moment of my short life, like it may be the last.