Ode to Body Awareness

Last post on Body Awareness

Strike flint against stone: ignite fire.
Marry melody to poem: give birth to a song.
Blend thinking with feeling: mother emotions—
Those cyclones
that
corkscrew
me
rapture
or
gloom.

Flint or stone alone? Sometimes useful;
but fire brings light, cooks dinner, and heats my home.
Lyrics or tunes played solo? They have beauty;
but flowing, vibrating, love-dreaming quickens my heart.
Thought or sensation when separate? Just movements;
But fused as reactive compounds? Explode as emotions.

Sunny emotions, I love you,
my friendly waves of bliss.
You warm me,
I smile,
I give myself to others.

But lightning flashes
like anger or fear or desire?
Fiery storms!
They shut down
my pre-frontal cortex

with flight-or-fight
and they impulse me,
drive me
to rash and lasting regrets.

The siren starts singing,
she opens
my eyes
pop wide.
Hot blood
inflames
my loins
seduce my morals.

The bully insults
my fears
melt down
my honor.
I run…
Betray my lion.

I’ll tell you what I’ve learned
about dealing
with all those negative onslaughts—
adrenalin-whirlpools surging around my body
and merging and swirling
with fast-moving conflicting thoughts:

It’s the marriage of software in hardware,
the energy in the engine,
the passion in the sword
that’s exponentially more powerful
than either one alone.

And therein lies the clue:
Divorce my mind
from my feelings—
Untango the two.

They’ll lose united power,
like a sword without a hand,
a dancer without a partner,
and yet—
They’re somehow still quantum-entangled.
So, calming one mysteriously calms the other.

I learned from my teacher that deep, simple secret.
When the dancers’ bond is broken,
I can settle my body by feeling it buzz
or bargain just with my thinking.

But which way works best?
Ask your therapist.
For my mind’s propaganda is spin-doctor hype,
but the buzz in my body is concrete and honest.
Fanciful, bubbling mind-storms roil and boil my brain,
but raw contracted sensations are honest, easy to tame.

So I feel the buzz in my body
(the easy half of emotion’s equation)
and ignore with indifference the story
churning my unreliable-narrator mind.

But here’s a little enigma:
My bubbling mind does the feeling.

For I had a shift of perspective
like Copernicus had with the sun:
My body is a projection,
a reflection of my mind,
and not the other way round.

The software creates the hardware:
It’s the egghead that comes first.

So my mind takes attention from thinking
to feeling the stress in my body,
which relaxes the tightness inside me
as sunshine relaxes cold skin.

And Mind, don’t mind Mind again thinking,
Which over and over Mind will…
I kiss it, but gently flow back to my body.

For it’s said the body reflects the mind
as the child reflects its parents
who pick up their crying baby like magic
sunrise—and the child is happy, secure,
and afraid no more.

Yes, my mind is my body’s parent
and warmed by its attention,
life-energy heals and relaxes
my body’s most stormy sensations.

When I calm the storm in my body,
flight-or-fight then fades away.
My pre-frontal cortex comes back,
so the story no longer holds sway.

And then:
The dancers can tango again.

~ John