I cannot ignore the bee. I can only live in the knowledge and pride that I no longer have to fear it. And it's living too, in its own pride, against the winter. Maybe it makes its home within ours, having babies and making nests in the corners of the attic, against the warm wood. Our home is not only our own. And I wont fear that either. And I am proud-- though I did not build this house, I did not abandon it. I let it be a home for all life.
(End of "Some fiction?")
Also:
Cold is a sensation, yes. But it's largely the mind that becomes anxious or pained it it. Only the mind decides to stop breathing deeply and shrug the shoulders tensely and clench the teeth. For whatever strange reason, I suppose it could be fear (plug in evolutionary vestige here), the mind will automatically go into defense mode against the cold. But, it doesn't do a very good job of it, left to its own instinctive devices. The better defense and better way to release that tension is to breathe in a nice, deep glob of that sharp air, unshrug those shoulders, feel the cold tingle on your skin or body through your clothing and know that you're not being hurt by the cold, the only discomfort is the instinctive belief that you are being or could be hurt. And then appreciate the uniqueness of that cold stuff-- like nothing else! Speculate about what crazy biological or chemical reactions might be going on in your skin and blood. What a treat.
And another moment of play:
I was looking for the washer and drier in my building, building 2, so I opened a random hallway closet. It contained a computer (note: the closet was under a set of stairs, no one could fit in it, and the computer was on and beeping, and has been since I've been here. Mysteries.) and a vacuum cleaner. Obviously, the washer and drier weren't here, so I went over to building 1, which seems to be the center for things you need-- gym, computers, ping pong table. Someone there said what I sought was in building 3. As I make my way, Aaron comes out of building 3 and says, "Hey, have you seen a vacuum cleaner?" So, I says, "Yeah, it's in that closet [in building 2]." And I thought, well, the universe and I just played a very pleasant game.
Hilarious. And a beautiful description of what I've always felt about the cold, and other unfamiliar experiences.
ReplyDeleteI just talked to a girl on OkCupid last night who said that classical music frustrated her, and she wanted to know why. I suggested that her discomfort indicated that she was in fact highly emotionally receptive to the message in that music. But because she didn't understand how to read that message, to read her emotions, she filed those unfamiliar feelings under "discomfort". She thanked me for having solved her problem!
In the meantime I've learned to smile whenever I don't like something. It usually means I'll eventually like it. :)
Another aspect of human psychology you might be interested in, and which has been on my mind lately: You stand in a doorway, with your arms pressed outward against the doorframe. After a minute or so, you step out; if you let your arms go limp, they will magically rise!
The explanation of this phenomenon is not a discussion of muscles, it is hidden in "if you let your arms go limp". The point is that you are doing what you THINK is letting your arms go limp. The context has forced a disconnect between conception and action.
I think this dynamic is incredibly pervasive. In every case, we become desensitized to something, then feel like we "aren't doing anything", and so double our efforts unnecessarily. Of course this dynamic arises when learning a musical instrument or sport or other physical skill, but I think it also can affect one's personality and interactions with other people. And that, I find fascinating.
+j