Connection

Connection: (n) a linking relationship

I have a heart that’s full of emotion. Every time I deny this, I feel sick.

I have a soul that’s rich with God. Ignoring this makes me grouchy.

I have a brain which is peppered with notions. Setting them to the side causes me to seem erratic, lacking focus.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I have a body that wants to be healthy. Damn well better listen.

I am connected. These parts are connected.

My heart needs a soul to seek the comfort of divine reassurance, so when I renew my mind I can come up with inspirational possibilities, causing my body to do great things.

When I meet you, all four of these kick into gear. Sometimes I smile when people say “we had an emotional connection.” Or, “it was like we were mental twins.”

I just don’t believe that.

Every person I’ve ever been spiritually enlivened by also caused my physical body to become erect.

All the humans who touched my emotions initiated my brain to think of ways to enjoy them more and bless them fully.

We are humans–we connect. When we don’t, we become insincere and phony, quietly hating ourselves and making other people avoid us.

 

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Cloying

Cloying: (adj) an excess of sweetness, richness, or sentiment.

When we need something and we can’t find what’s real, generally speaking, we have to settle for the best fake available.

I remember the first time I ate imitation crab meat. I had eaten real crab meat before. The imitation did not taste the same. But when I considered the price difference, I allowed that phony crab to attract me–in its cloying way.

It is my great exasperation that we are getting so accustomed to cloying, tugging, pulling, phony emotion out of awkward situations, that we will begin to believe that the original, natural form of feeling is implausible.

After all, since human beings are heart creatures, they need to feel.

Even though there are philosophies, political parties and religions which try to remove sentiment from the equation, we still end up with stiff cardboard cutouts, who every once in a while have to fake paper-thin emotions.

When does it become cloying?

It’s cloying when I realize I need to feel something but don’t, so I insert it anyway–instead of feeling something and needing to express it as soon as possible.

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Chloroform

Chloroform: (n) a sweet-smelling anesthetic.

I am a phony.

I’m hoping that if I admit it, I won’t have to be accosted by the critics who discover it.

Here is where my phoniness comes to the forefront: I often think about matters which I insist would be intriguing, but if offered the opportunity, I’d turn it down.

This came to my mind this morning when I looked at the word “chloroform.” I have watched television shows where a character has placed this chemical on a
handkerchief, covering the nose of an enemy, putting him or her into a deep sleep.

While viewing this I have thought to myself, I wonder what that’s like? Is there any pain, discomfort, hangover or headache that would accompany the experience? I am intrigued.

Yet if somebody walked into the room and asked, “Would you like to find out what it’s like to go under?” I would pass.

Any number of situations would fall into this pattern.

  • “I am interested.”
  • “Here you are.”
  • “No, thanks.”

It’s not that I’m a coward. I actually consider myself to be very adventurous. But it’s much easier to envision myself brave than it is to prove it in the courtroom of human events.

I occasionally watch people jumping out of an airplane and wonder if I would actually do it.

It’s ridiculous. Unless the plane was on fire and twelve feet from the ground, I would remain within.

I have avoided friendships, romantic encounters and probably passed up on a good deal or two simply because I could not pull the trigger at the right moment.

I don’t lack experience; I am not a novice. It’s just that in selected moments, I was a coward.

Or maybe I should call myself an “over-stater.”

Yes. That sounds better: “That fellow really over-states his interest level.”

And since I have grown weary of being quite this vulnerable, I shall stop my typing and chloroform this article.

 

 

 

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Barb

Barb: (n) a cutting remark.Dictionary B

I believe the old adage is, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Of course, that concept is not only optimistic, it is not necessarily beneficial in improving situations and evolving our efforts.

Yet I’m often curious if there is a way to speak without coming across phony or critical. What would that be? Because the truth makes us free. At least, that’s the assertion. But what is the freedom we are granted by the truth?

It all depends on whether the truth arrives with judgment, explanation or merely as comment.

After all, “I don’t like this” is not the same as “I don’t like this and you shouldn’t like it, too” and certainly has no familiarity with, “I don’t like this because God doesn’t like it.”

I think you can actually speak the truth with love, free of barbs, if you don’t have to involve the mob or beseech the Divine as your ally.

If someone loves me, it should be enough for me to say, “I don’t like that.”

  • It doesn’t mean they should stop doing it.
  • It doesn’t mean that the heavens are preparing a hell because of their choices.
  • It means I have a preference.

Here is a factual statement:

I will never be able to share THE truth. All I can do is share MY truth. And my truth consists of the things that edify me, encourage me and make me stronger.

We live in a generation of verbal barbs. Self-righteousness is not limited to religious people, but permeates politics, business and entertainment.

You may feel free to criticize any one of my articles, knowing for certain that I will hear your words and I will learn.

I don’t fear changing my mind. I consider it my advantage to evolve.

Having a brain that can reject nonsense and embrace potential … is truly a confirmation of the divine.

 

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