Widdershins:

(sometimes withershins, widershins or widderschynnes) means to take a course opposite that of the sun, going counterclock-wise, lefthandwise, or to circle an object, by always keeping it on the left. It also means "in a direction opposite to the usual," which is how I choose to take it in using it as the title of this blog. We're all in the same world finding our own way.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Body's A Temple

I'm a writer by practice, a dancer in step, silly by default and here to help.

I'm fond of lists like this; summing myself up in a few silly words. They're incomplete snapshots of a life far more complex and simple than you can really see.

It's like vacation pictures. Everybody's smiling in the pictures, but what you didn't see was little Jimmy crying an hour earlier when he stepped on a bee, or Dad swearing because he couldn't figure how to put up the god damn tent. Selected memories that will eventually replace the reality with a fiction, a farce. Eventually the happy pictures become the memories.

I don't want to replace myself with a representation though and create a doppelganger of the mind. I want to leave people guessing. It's said that information is power, and if I don't always share everything about myself, then I will always be the one with the most power over myself. That said, it's probably pretty ironic that this is coming from someone who has no qualms turning a friendly stranger into a fast friend.

Sensations through connections. We say there are 6 senses (I'm counting balance here), but really, aren't they all a product of touch? The photons touch the cones and rods in our eyes which send electrical signals to our brains. The molecules touch the taste buds on our tongues and whatever scent receptors are in our noses. Soundwaves touch and vibrate our eardrums. Gravity pulls on the inner ear, sloshing little bags of water around so they squeeze hairs. It's all tactile. You can't always see it, but it's all touch.

How touching.

And each touch, each moment, is the quick firing of a neuron/synapse to the brain.

Remember that catchy phrase I won’t worry my life away? For the first time in my life it’s manifested into something more than just a concept. Worry is what happens when we create meaning in a way that brings us down and it’s usually about an event that never really happens.
-Jason Mraz


I quote this not just because it's from one of my favorite musical artists, rather because I think it wonderfully illustrates that this connection of touch works both ways. The mind is by no means a passive beast.

People look at the mind-body connection and are filled with images of esoteric meaning, but it's very much a real thing "scientifically" studied. They of course call it the placebo effect, but nomenclature has always been a matter of contention between science and the masses. Swine flue, anyone. Excuse me, I mean the H1N1 virus.

Which brings me back to my original point, your body is a temple. The distinction of whether it's a temple to the mundane or to the transcendent or anything for that matter, I'll leave up to you, but there's more to us than just the flesh and all of its associated filth.

We are the temples of our ideals, represented by words and actions. We decorate ourselves with jewelry and clothes and tattoos like the flags and flowers that go up when there is a festival.

We are the temples of ourselves, but should we celebrate? What reason do we have? Do we even need one? Rhetorical questions are stupid, more so when you don't have an answer.

I once did an activity where you were supposed to complete a sentence about yourself.
"I am... gay."
"I am... more afraid of coming across as a bad person than anything else, which is why I try so hard to be so compassionate and loving to the world."
"I am... a constant procrastinator."
"I am... actually a pretty bad student because I was smart enough to ace my way through high school without ever really needing to try."

But I think the best answer any of us could give is simply "I am." When you truly are yourself, everything else speaks for itself.

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