Theos-Talk Archives (May 2002 Message tt00193)

At 01:22 PM 5/23/02 -0400, you wrote:
> In a message dated 5/23/02 10:40:12 AM Central Daylight Time,
> redrosarian@yahoo.com writes:
>
> << Even when we get to the point where our
> emotional bodies are purified, we must realize the solemnity of
> keeping our vibration at a higher rate so that we reduce the chances
> of re-contaminating our emotional bodies.
> >>
>
> Solemnity? EEEEEK!!!
>
> I think I'll keep contaminating things. It's more fun that way.
>
> Chuck the Heretic
Everything has its place. Having an emotion appropriate
to a situation is human. Consistently having inappropriate
emotions is a sign of dysfunction, like with schizophrenia.

Watching Benny Hill, Saturday Night Live, Monthy Python,
or someone so tense that they really need some humor, a
good laugh really works. Comics like Dilbert are also
great.

Other things, like seeing the stars on a clear night, a
field of spring flowers blown by a gentle breeze, or
someone make a personal sacrifice for others -- these
evoke deeper feelings. One is quiet and outwardly inactive.
But this is not an inert or tense and uptight quiet. Rather,
it comes with an inner warmth or richness that may only
be apparent later as one does something more for others,
something in addition to what one would have otherwise done.

The difference between this sort of feeling and
sentimentality is like the difference between fresh,
white, pure snowflakes as they settle on a still
landscape and muddy roadside slush that gets everything
it touches dirty.

There's different levels of quality to both humor and
to inner, quieter feelings.

Humor could be like with a bunch of guys watching football
on tv. Half-drunk, they start howling with laughter when
one of them makes an especially loud fart. Or humor could
be a almost-subliminal laughing at the absurdity of life,
giving a light, gentle touch to every experience.

Being solemn could be our reaction to a police officer
pulling us over for a ticket, where we're deadly serious
for a moment, afraid of what to expect. Or when our
house first starts shaking in an earthquake, not knowing
if we're about to die or not. But it could also be a
reverent, loving state as we hold a loved one's hands
at their deathbed, as they pass on to something better.
Or an inner gasp of "aha!" as we've just had a wonderful
insight into light that completely changes everything.

-- Eldon