John Keats, an English romantic poet, wrote “O for a life of sensations rather than of thoughts.” This from a man who died of tuberculosis at age 26.
I am a thinker. Sensations are difficult to practice. I am hopeful that by reading more, I will discover new clues to increase my “life of sensations.”
In the “second half” of life I am more of a listener. Listening has enhanced an awareness of and an appreciation for sensations. Searching for a sensation had felt like meditating, something that in the first half of life I did not do much of.
I am not ready to embrace labyrinths, but I am contemplating making a pot holder. A friend informed me this could be accomplished by ordering a kit from Harrisville Design. I am thinking about it. No better way to know than by doing it.
As I kid I hated making pot holders. One might say “hate” is an improper word, but dislike didn’t sound strong enough. Maybe “fear” is a better word. As a kid I feared making pot holders.
In this last sliver of life getting over fears has become easier. I once feared hospitals and now I am content working in one. Wouldn’t it be terrific if we could rid ourselves of all our fears? At least the silly ones. When I acknowledge that I fear potholders, it feels silly. Like when being asked during a physical if I am allergic to anything and I say, “Eggplant.”
This fear stuff spills over into who we are. It determines our sensations about others. We embrace labels; Scottish or German, Christian or Jew, victim or borderline, black or white. I was told that I am of two nationalities, Scottish and German. I had my DNA tested and found that I am 7 percent Irish. I reassessed myself inclusive of this newly found origin.
I love red hair, Irish writers and I enjoy Celtic songs. I relish draft beer. Are all these Irish? James Hillman writes in “The Soul’s Code” that they are most certainly concepts, but “we are talking sociology more than soul.”
As I contemplate my sociology, I wish for soulful. I long to experience the invisible.
I seek it in you and in me. Hillman refers to the invisible as “the spirit of a place, the quality of a thing, the soul of a person, the mood of a scene, the style of an art.”
Which brings me back to Keats. The art of learning sensations. We realize them, or we don’t. After a storm passed the other night the air was noticeably cooler, the next morning sensational. With the heat and humidity gone, I no longer wished for winter. I would meditate more if I could guarantee an experience of the invisible. Thoughts are invisible, and necessary, but as Emerson said, “everything in moderation.” If we experience too much of ourselves, we are “narcissistic”, but some level of experiencing oneself I find necessary for thought and sensation.
My reduction in fears often comes from interacting with others.
Kept to my own thoughts, I would not grow. Normal would be me. Others have taught me this is not normal and encourage “the me” to experience new ways of looking at things, even my childhood fears.
People are wonderful for our evolution. Nevertheless, I have a couple of fears I plan to hold on to, these born out of adult experiences. I can still say with confidence that cutting the lawn and tent camping will not be on my bucket list.
Bob Ritchie is a regular contributor to the Monadnock Ledger-Transcript.