Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Happy insomnia and other random madnesses. . . you have been warned.

The brain needs time to recognize, grasp, and wrap around everything the eyes and other senses perceive. If the brain does not expect it, most likely it will be ignored as static information and cast it to the circular file in the back of the mind for more pertinent information, like the bus barreling around the corner at wicked, scary speeds through pot holes. If this is true, and I have had experiences and evidence that this is so, the why the fuck must we endure the insanity of the onslaughts of emotion before we understand what exactly it is we are feeling?? Why must everything be muddled like stirred up lake water? It's a train wreck waiting to happen really. It's amazing out brains just don't explode and ooze out of the holes in our heads. It doesn't matter what the emotion is, powerful ones always start the same with that tingle in the back of your jaw. It races around to the back of your head, chills the stomach,  and depending on circumstances, raises your hackles or buckles your knees. If your brain refuses to engage and deal, you may do both and have a moment of lights out.

So, what is it about the crashing of potent emotions that erases the memory banks temporarily of its understanding of what is being cooked up in their special brew in the dark spaces of our endocrine systems?? What triggers the endocrine system to fire off the appropriate emotional response cocktail if we ourselves have no conscious reference to the information our brain is trying to puzzle us through. Is it the unconscious mind acknowledging something it figured out before it surfaced to the forefront? It is a response to physical stimuli? Is it a psychic connection that we share will all things that live? Or is it something deeper and far more mysterious that happens when we are overtaken with that first intense wave?

Is it possible, that as we are in that first moment of emotional throws, we are not producing the chemicals as a response to emotional stimuli, but as a response to the spirit world part of ourselves. The part of ourselves that is connected and communicates directly with the Divine; the child within us that knows has poured her brew into our vessel and we are we responding to something that takes our brain a moment to understand?? Is it possible that these things we call emotions are deliberately triggered responses from our spirit selves being funneled down into the thick denseness of our being, finally, triggering a chemical response to cause the physical body to react in a specific manner in accordance to how our soul wishes to express itself. And after all this action is said and way past done, the mind goes to work to figure out whether to release a tear from the right side first as a sign of joy, the left as a sign of pain, or both would be a sign that you stepped on one of those accursed legos!

I asked these questions in light of the attacks by, what John Calhoun would have referred to as, probers. Probers in the experiments that Dr. Calhoun were conducting were the equivalents of our sexual predators, terrorists, the criminally violent, etc. What is different in these people? Do they start with a broken empathy chip or are their chips quickly degraded by the violence they witness? Would it be sort of like in Firefly with the Reavers? Anyone who survived an attack from these probers became just like them from sheer madness in the story. How close is that to the truth?

Is it possible that if you do not attend to the wounds of the soul, the spirit retreats and becomes more difficult to hear until the only thing left to hear are the raging imprecations of anger ringing in the skull? Mother Theresa was heard to have said that she suffered the silence of God. She was definitely not a prober. So, that can't be entirely right.

Maybe, it has more to do with which wolf you are feeding: the angry one or the loving one.

I can't ( and none else can) fix the prober issue or even the individual probers. That is something only one's self can do for one's self. If you are very lucky, you have people around you who diffuse your hot buttons quickly. I don't know which can first as far as the emotional tidal wave thing. It's sort of like the chicken and the egg thing. Divine trigger, chemical trigger . . . it's not really gonna matter when the chips are down. What will matter when the chips are down and skittering across the floor, is which wolf I have been feeding. Only I can prevent myself from becoming an enclosure time bomb and I may have a hand in keeping a few of those around me on this side of the prober tracks.

Ok, I am a big fat liar. I do have a best friend who will commit best-friendicide if I go over the tracks to the enclosure time bomb side.

It's in the contract, I promise.

This has been your late night random madness moment. Happy insomnia and good morning, good night and GOOD LORDS!!! WHY??! WHY is it this late . . . er ... early. . . er what ever.

See you in Odd!

No comments:

Post a Comment