The Counselor. . . .

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Oftentimes what I plan on doing does not happen.  And in its place comes a something long incubating but not surfacing.  In reading recently I came across the topic of emotions which brought Doris Lessing’s Shikasta series to mind.  The series brought up many topics for consideration.  And the subject of emotions are a topic to consume worlds. (And they do.)  I never thought differences in minute matters could cause great disturbances,  but even in how we see things and render our explanations puts us ill at ease.   That there is as much agreement among us is the marvel.   We all know people incapable of feeling.  We know of those who cannot say the word ‘love.’  When I related to my mother as a teenager reading a movie magazine that a movie star only kissed his children when they slept, she agreed.  It explained why she never hugged us.  So this was not an isolated case but more of a cultural or generational custom. Everything teaches, even movie magazines.  I introduce the thought to some,  while others may already entertain it,  that we come to this world from places different than our Earth.  Emotions are not commonly understood by all.  Some dip deeply into the well of who they are while others surf who they are.   It is all they can do.  To Ms. Lessing who wrote with such conviction,  I am indebted.

The Counselor

She sat across the desk,
crisp and sharp and
in charge of who she was.
Emotion is not fact, she said,
so separate what you feel
from what is happening.

Then why I ask is my heart breaking?
And with composure she assures me
my heart is whole.  She does not see
that my world is built
on feelings that shape my days.

I was born to paint my life
with the wide brush of emotion,
to teach me to love,
to see, to care and learn To Be.

When love withdrew from me
and left me barren, I knew
I would not forget its power to lift
me high enough to touch the heavens
and to care enough
for this Earth I walked to sweep
the debris where others might walk.

To see the opening of the crocus
in the covering of snow to tell
of Spring arriving and of days
becoming longer with light and
caressing me with breezes
as soft as baby kisses.

She did not know of worlds
where these emotions were not born yet,
where facts dealt the cards to be played,
where feelings did not lay color
on days and nights and
where learning to live with feelings

were reasons why we asked to be born of Earth.

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