The inner home I live in

Lately, I’ve had the feeling that my emotions are not inside me, but with me.

It’s not a comforting or distressing feeling — it just seems like a different natural order. Emotions aren’t usually companions we care for. I’m not exactly sure how I began to see them this way. It feels like my natural path, in a more advanced stage, since I’ve always been someone who listens to my body, even as a child.

I know that my emotions are things that affect my body — I’m in love, and it makes my heart ache. However, I see it as me and the feeling of love as separate, with love affecting the physical body I inhabit. I don’t feel an automatic impulse because of it. I choose how to care for it, and when to care for it.

Since my emotions are my companions, I’m responsible for all of them. I don’t deny them, merge with them, repress them, or rush to exploit them. I care for them — even when I’m only observing them.

I know a feeling has been cared for enough because, like with friendships or services, they are relational transactions. If I feel something, it’s because the emotion wants attention. If I stop feeling it and I’m at peace — maybe even happy — it means I’ve tended to my entire garden. And there are also times when one emotion takes center stage, and I end up shifting my internal routine to adapt.

It’s as if I — not me as a whole, but I, the consciousness of felipejoys — inhabit a house, which is my body, including my physical organism and my unconscious mind. And I am the diplomat between them and myself, the caretaker of it all.
A more advanced, natural, and even biological version of my old way of thinking, where consciousness is the diplomat of the mind.

But it’s a way of existing that doesn’t feel human. It feels alien — like something from another species. It doesn’t seem like something humans should be able to do.

Anyway, I am the one who lives in this house. The physical structure of the house is my physical body, especially my organs. The decoration reflects my preferences, my tastes, my desires, and my memories. The entities that live here are like plants — they also need care, like the structure of the house, but more immediately. And I am responsible for everything inside, because it is my home — a living home that needs me, just as I need it.

image https://pixabay.com/pt/vectors/casa-neve-inverno-azul-home-4752719/