All my senses

Notes on how to be happy (here we go again).

Late at night I like to ask God if He likes metaphors as much as I do. I tell Him thank you for the gift of language, and the gift of our brains, that can see similarities and turn almost anything into poetry. I tell Him that I understand and worship how Jesus died on the cross to save me, but in any way, could poetry be at least number 99 on his salvation list? At least when it came to saving me? And he says nope, “It is finished” and he meant it. But then He talks about the blood and the nails and the agony and the giving up of his own Spirit as “a sweet aroma.” (Ephesians 5:2). And for once I wish to tell him I’ve heard of dark humor, but I don’t know what to call his, “dark metaphor?”

I tell God he saves me through poetry sometimes. And Audre Lorde was right when she said “Poetry is not a luxury, it is a vital necessity of our existence.” It sounds petty, cause life is serious, and you can’t always be talking about how your sweater feels like a warm clampy hug from your grandma when the world is on fire. But I can tell you this is one way I have learned how to live a happy life, one way God tells me I can hold on. To put on a sweater and let it feel like a hug.

But it comes with its own set of problems, of how people can tell you its silly and unreal. Cause that sweater doesn’t have arms of flesh that you can feel around you, no matter how much the warmth of it could match that of a hug. True. And there was a season of my life I was done with metaphors and poetry. It turned to self-pity and fear that I was being delusional, because all this imagery and comparison that made me happy was just something my heart and brain told me. A sweater is just a sweater, can’t I just see things simply as they are?

No.

Cause God tells me body is bread and blood is wine, and the Son is Lion but also Lamb. Maybe there are really is more than what meets the eye, so much beauty and depth to just call the sun yellow and the ocean blue. And maybe there’s really more to your face than to just call it pretty.

And while some people have argued saying that they can’t live like that simply because they are not creative or poetic, I think it has much more to do with presence and the consciousness of your senses, than it has to do with trying to come up with flowery words. I feel like that’s the core of poetry, it just has to be felt.

I don’t like giving people instructions on how to live, I mean, who even does that… but this my friend, is just a loving invitation, one thing that helps me feel truly alive! To not take my senses for granted, to use them and enjoy every gift they have to offer. See, hear, touch, smell, taste.

Truly see the colour of the cloth you are wearing, truly look into their eyes. Truly hear the music, listen to their voice, how heavy or light. Truly drink and feel how cold is the coke, and how sweet does it burn your tongue. Truly feel the skin that touches yours, and the softness of water in the shower. Truly smell whatever is cooking in the kitchen, and close your eyes for a second, and you might as well feel close to whoever used to cook for you as a child.

Staying present and conscious with our senses in this world is hard, but I think this is one way we can fight, we can rebel, we can tell the brokenness of this world that joy is still ours, that there are still a thousand lights here. I’m not even as disciplined when it comes to this as much as I like to advocate for it, but I’m trying. You could even start by using one single activity in your day where you choose and really try to be present and conscious (I have chosen my shower time!)

So you can start right here, right now, what do you feel with all your senses? How soft or rough is the surface your feet are touching, what are you looking at, its shape and colour, what is the sound like outside your window, close your eyes, listen for a minute, what have you eaten last and what taste still lingers in your mouth, what does this room smell like?

This, here, what you are feeling, is what we call life.

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*A couple of things that guide me in this way of living which you could also check out if you’d like are, Morghan Harper Nichols book Peace is a practice, The Ignatian examen prayer, Spencer Johnson’s book The Present, and recently been reading a lot of Audre Lorde’s Poetry is not a luxury.