The Anatomy of Feeling
A Compass for the Way Back Home
I. THE RAW REALITY
In the end, only one thing remains: Feeling. No matter what happens, what we truly experience isn't the theory or the sermon it's the bitterness, the pain, the annoyance, the relief, and the gratitude. It all passes through feeling. And that feeling is real. I am the one feeling it, no one else.
II. THE DIVINE BALANCE
They often say bitterness is our own doing wrong steps, poor choices, stubbornness. Yet, at the same time, bitterness is a test. Both can be true at once. That is the justice of life. What matters isn't who to blame, but whether we still realize He is the one providing that feeling. As long as the feeling exists, life goes on, and the connection isn't broken.
III. THE SILENT UNDERSTANDING
I often hope that He "wants" to feel what I feel. Not in the sense of God becoming human, but in the sense that He understands. It is the most human conviction: if God is All-Knowing, then surely He knows what it's like to be us, without the need for long explanations.
IV. THE MIDNIGHT LOGIC
The night is often the most vulnerable time. By day, we pretend to be strong; by night, the masks fall. We overthink, we count our sins, we feel small. I realized one thing: God is All-Forgiving, but not necessarily All-Accepting of deeds. Deeds can be rejected, intentions can be flawed, but forgiveness is always open. So I choose the simplest logic: do what I can, and ask for as much forgiveness as possible. If the sins are forgiven, I'm safe. The acceptance of deeds? That's a bonus.
V. THE PENDULUM
As long as there is day and night, good and bad, life will never be sterile from feelings. And that’s normal. It’s not about a life without bitterness, but a life that stays conscious, that can still find its way back. Patience and Gratitude are not final destinations; they are a back-and-forth process. Sometimes patience comes first, sometimes gratitude follows. He understands that everyone’s order is different.
VI. THE PUPPET & THE MASTER
I once likened myself to a Wayang (puppet) and God as the Dalang (puppeteer). Sometimes we feel "I am Him," not meaning we are God, but that we are in sync. On the same frequency. The puppet may feel alive and moving, but the strings are still with the Master. And that’s the beauty of it: we move, but never alone.
This isn't to teach anyone. This is a note to myself.
A way to remember: if it feels dark today, I once knew light, and that is proof the light can return.
Because sometimes, writing isn't for the world it's a way home.
