Dad Explains: Feeling Your Feels
Perhaps better put: Me feeling my feels publicly.
Madame, all stories, if continued far enough, end in death, and he is no true-story teller who would keep that from you.
Catchy Header #1
Ah, catchy header #1. Always a good lead-in to a piece. It should be topical and witty.
That’s not what I am going over today. No, today I am going to feel those feels because I haven’t allowed it recently. In a way I have, but it has been secretive, internalized. Today I say “Muck that.”
That’s right, I finished “For Whom The Bell Tolls”.
The ending, as usual, reminded me why Hemingway was such a literary giant. Is such a literary giant? Either way, that bastard started me on this feels journey so buckle up, here we go.
More Topical Header #2
There’s no real reason to break these sections up thus. I am just having some fun.
Feel your feels kids and don’t be too ashamed of it. Screeching “AWE” every time you see a cat outside of the window of the car you’re riding in, especially if it’s the same damn cat, now that’s too much. You’re in triple Uggs, vest, pumpkin spice latte basic territory at that point.
But if you feel something, feel free to feel it if you so desire.
Naturally you must be careful not to allow your feelings to overtake common sense, decency and responsibilities. Feelings are just that, feelings. They trump nothing. They are better than nothing. Just feel them if you can, if you can’t, don’t. You won’t be able to accomplish this but you can try and you can save them for later if need be.
Are you running from someone who is brandishing a knife that would put Crocodile Dundee to shame? Would he look at his own knife and say “That’s not a knife, that’s a knife!” Stating that the stranger running after you is, in fact, carrying the one true knife? And while running did you happen to allow your mind to wander and found yourself thinking about sad things?
If so, stop. That’s a reasonable scenario to cease feeling and continue to run or keep your mind on the task at hand.
If it isn’t, then I have nothing for you. Read no further. Not getting stabbed is a good reason to stop the feels.
Now Feel Header #3
We got all that out of the way. Feeling is dumb sometimes. There are times we must act coolly, calmly, coldly. Any other -ly that comes to mind as well.
But assuming we know this and we’re not in any of those -ly times, feel your feels! When you do so be sure to assess.
Feeling good things, sad things, big things, small things, any thing you feel is fun. It’s cool, ya dig? But WHY do you feel that way and WHAT is spurring it on?
Personally if there’s an exciting feeling I would want to know how to return to it when I am able. Pay attention to your shit, kids. Pay attention to how you feel and why you feel that way.
Chances are you’re going to start with the introspection and find you’re being an idiot. That happens to us all. Most of our feelings are a load of hammered shit, truth be told.
But some are replicable. Some are reasonable. Those are the good ones or the REALLY BAD ONES. Tread lightly, but tread all the same.
Dad Feels Too Header #4
I love my children. They know that, I know that, everyone knows that. I feel nice when they’re around.
Most of the time.
The other little bit I either feel agitated or I feel REALLY NICE and JUST FULL OF LOVE AND HAPPINESS LIKE THE WORLD WILL BE OKAY.
So, you know, some balance exists.
When they’re not around, however, I feel incomplete. This doesn’t bode well for my own future but that’s not here so I shouldn’t worry about it… I think.
Either way, that is the case. Most of the time I can concentrate on what I am doing or what I need to do and things even out for me. No huge swings of that incommodious pendulum of emotion. Normally.
Until, I guess, I read ANYTHING by Hemingway. Recently that was “For Whom The Bell Tolls” as I have stated prior. Now I have read it before but like most things it was long ago and I had forgotten everything that happened. There weren’t any portions of it familiar to me.
As opposed to being an issue I found it to be WONDERFUL.
Also, apologies for the caps in this piece. As I write this the capitalized portions are being screamed in my head. An interesting inner monologized train of thought. The narrator for my brain housing group had too much coffee.
I haven’t had any, in contrast.
But, like, Ernie.
Ernie my man.
Why’d you have to do me like that, bro?
Okay, so without spoilers as I know it just got released and not everyone has had a chance to read it but my God in heaven what a book and what an ending. I felt myself rooting for what I knew was an impossibility. I found myself holding out hope the impossible would become possible. Perhaps that’s in part due to the ubiquity of the deus ex machina in modern literature and storytelling I felt it was possible. Either way it was my fault.
But I loved it. How does one write like that? How does one write in a way the reader refuses to believe the reality despite knowing the reality? How does one write in a way that has the reader holding out hope in a hopeless place? Finding love in a hopeless place? Ah, Maria and Robert Jordan. The Rabbit and the Inglés. They are the original Rihanna and Calvin Harris (music references!).
I cried. I did. I literally cried. And, for full transparency, I didn’t read a word of “For Whom The Bell Tolls” this time. I listened to it. And I regret NOTHING.
I damn cried at my desk after telling my beautiful, wonderful, amazing wife, “hold on there’s twenty-three minutes left in this book,” in a not so patient or polite way. (Sorry wifey. I love you!). That’s my whoopsie.
To give credit, Campbell Scott is who narrated it and I would never have guessed it was him. Like, never. I didn’t recognize the voice and swore at times it was narrated by a native Spaniard or, perhaps, someone with a Hispanic background. Something, I don’t know. Or maybe even Eastern European or East Asian background.
Something other than New York City.
So, kudos Mr. Scott. Wonderfully done. I have linked his name so ya’ll can see what he’s done. It’s a good amount.
Dad Feels Life Final Header
Well that book took me down a feels rabbit hole today. It also had me realize I’m just being silly with some of my issues I have been having. Of course I have been working to actually bring in some money to the house, so that’s part of it.
However, I got back into that spiral of curated content. That empty, voiceless, hollow content I can put out that isn’t the freestyle I tend to do.
Why scrap bad ideas?
Actually, those you can probably scrap.
But why scrap incomplete ideas? They aren’t complete. Put them to the side, Andrew, and stop being dumb. I fell into the self-pity trap yet again. This means I would write but not publish because it wasn’t polished.
I am no professional author, thinker, philosophizer or anything near those levels of polish. There’s nothing I can do to get there NOW.
I will get there, sure, but not NOW.
So if I publish only that which is perfect I will publish nothing.
And if I publish nothing I will gain nothing. I will learn nothing. I will grow none and I will, in the end, do nothing.
Which I realized, oddly enough, by reading a book about the Spanish Civil War. That’s a bit odd but I’m one hundred percent on board.
As far as feels? I cried later in the day as well, post book. Some internet person put a clip of a kid running to a picture of their father. Cute, right?
Yes and no and how dare you?
Think about it. Why is the kid running to a picture of their Dad? Why are they so excited about the picture? Why are they bringing flowers?
Man, life is tough. Kids are amazing. I love mine so much.
And life is unkind and brutal and empty and dark.
And brings so much joy and wonder and awe and love.
So kids, pay attention to me when I say this.
Feel free to feel. That, my dear children, is what life is. That’s what life gives us all. Without our downs we cannot appreciate the ups. Without the valley how could we tell we’re on a peak? One cannot ascend to the mountaintop on a level plain. All that would mean is walking straight without resistance.
Love life, endure pain, live on.
Love You,
Dad
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