Friday, March 27, 2015

feeling and valuation

 I measure with my intellect, but I value with feeling.

My valuation of my life increases in direct proportion to my understanding through the intelligence of feeling. Feeling has its own intelligence which is quite distinct from the intellect, which organizes, files, and compares. Feeling experiences; it is not a note-taker, it is a living quality of encountering life. There is a note taker who exists here side-by-side with the one who feels, but they are different people, different brains, different minds. If I see them both in action at the same time I suddenly understand that there are parts of myself that understand life immediately, as it happens here, not as a result of checking back in the notebooks, which I am prone to do a lot.

It reminds me of the way people want to experience where they are through their cell phones. It's most odd; all around me, in the midst of magnificent cityscapes, beautiful national parks, nature, wherever — it doesn't matter. One keeps seeing crowds of people, especially young ones, all hunched over their cell phones and devoting 100% of their attention to a little glass screen which is at best a few inches square. This is what the note-taker does. It excessively believes in the intellect and the material that the intellect is fascinated by. It is, furthermore, easily hypnotized by its own activity.

I suppose we avoid feeling because it can be dangerous. Feeling, after all, may reveal first and foremost that I have an exaggerated sense of myself; that I am motivated mostly by hubris. I'm scared of finding out real things about myself, I see that constantly; and so of course I try to arrange things to avoid that.

In my own case, I happen to be fortunate in that my feeling center is not so passive anymore; it has its own ideas about such things, and is constantly confronting me with how I am, whether I want it to or not. Healthy operation of both the physical and the feeling centers takes place when they awaken a bit and spend more time trying to remind me of what I am. Without the action of these two minds—in addition to the one that wants to look at 10 in.² of glass and the Internet information that displays on it—I'm not going to know very much about my life or who I am.

I come back to something I've written about many times before, which is that information is that which is inwardly formed — not lists of facts. If I acquire real information, it means that life is flowing into me and forming something inwardly. That formation ought to be a tangible, organic one, which I can actually feel and sense in my body; not just a set of thoughts that I bring to everything.

All day long, I see the inner note taker reading narratives to me, it's like this, it's like that, and realize how useless that "information" actually is.

While this is going on, I sense other parts of myself taking life in so that something is formed in me, something active and living, which feels life as it encounters it.

That's what I truly value, is this feeling connection, which I am still, after all these years, clumsy about managing. At their best, my feeling intuition and my feeling intelligence are very good indeed at helping me and showing me how to come into relationship with the world; but I'm not attentive and I don't listen to them as much as I ought, not by a long shot.

I suppose I have improved some over the years, but it's not enough to go an inch when you need to go a mile.

Hosanna.

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