A Momentary Lapse of Reason

 I wake up with the same heartache I fell asleep with. Thinking about all these studies that say that the heart has its own nervous system. 40,000 neurons, not that much but definitely enough to hold on a feeling. My cortical working memory can hold a world, but I'm old enough to know that it is not mine. A representaion woven by streams of forces that I barely had control over apart from awareness.  But for my heart, there is this voice that says I shoudn't worry, I kept it hidden for that long, it is truley mine. I worry too much about ownership of my feelings, they tend to be painful most of the time, so I let them go. Yet still these leeches in the heart, despite how painful they roam around, I still can't find ways to let go of them.  "No fable here no lesson No singing meadow lark Just a filthy beggar blessing What happens to the heart"

 There is a weird lightness in place when I have to experience my body reactions to danger with a deflated ego. The cold shiver down my spine, the heavy breath, the contraction in my forehead, and the weight on my chest — these are not me.  A distance apart, I can observe these mulitude of energies and emotions travel through my body. It used to be so scary, I'd fall into a self-reinforcing loop where the danger and the reaction/malfunction amplified one another. I think of danger as a signal that tells me that there is something wrong around. Most of the time, my body reacts with some short-circuited automatic response(s) that amplify the coming signal. It's the awarness of this ping-pong of horrors that can get you out, or at least allows you to see that there is a way out. Remember what you are, it's gonna be alright.