The Anatomy of Peace
Formerly titled "How to Live With my Body" by john roedel www.johnroedel.com
my brain and heart divorced a decade ago
over who was
to blame about how big of a mess I have become
eventually, they couldn’t be in the same room with each other
now my head and heart share custody of me
I stay with my brain during the week
and my heart
gets me on weekends
they never speak to one another - instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every week
and their notes they
send to one another always says the same thing:
“This is all your fault”
on Sundays
my heart complains about how my
head has let me down in the past
and on Wednesdays my head lists all of the times my heart has screwed things up for me in the future
they blame each other for the state of my life
there’s been a lot
of yelling - and crying
so,
lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time with my gut
who serves as my unofficial therapist
most nights, I sneak out of the window in my ribcage
and slide down my spine
and collapse on my
gut’s plush leather chair that’s always open for me
~ and I just sit sit sit sit until the sun comes up
last evening,
my gut asked me
if I was having a hard time being caught between my heart
and my head
I nodded
I said I didn’t know
if I could live with either of them anymore
“my heart is always sad about
something that happened yesterday
while my head is always worried
about something that may happen tomorrow,” I lamented
my gut squeezed my hand
“I just can’t live with
my mistakes of the past
or my anxiety about the future,” I sighed
my gut smiled and said:
“in that case,
you should
go stay with your lungs for a while,”
I was confused
- the look on my face gave it away
“if you are exhausted about
your heart’s obsession with
the fixed past and your mind’s focus
on the uncertain future
your lungs are the perfect place for you
there is no yesterday in your lungs there is no tomorrow there either
there is only now
there is only inhale there is only exhale there is only this moment there is only breath
and in that breath
you can rest while your heart and head work their relationship out.”
this morning, while my brain was busy reading tea leaves
and while my
heart was staring at old photographs
I packed a little bag and walked to the door of
my lungs
before I could even knock she opened the door
with a smile and as
a gust of air embraced me she said
“what took you so long?”
/////
The yoga teacher (online at Monona Terrace Convention Center in Madison) recited this on Friday and I do, certainly, spend time angry at both my head and my heart. Mostly my head for getting me into these things (or not doing enough or messing up)
I added carriage breaks so it doesn't become just a long, long series of lines. I put them in where the natural breaks seemed to come in the writing.
my brain and heart divorced a decade ago
over who was
to blame about how big of a mess I have become
eventually, they couldn’t be in the same room with each other
now my head and heart share custody of me
I stay with my brain during the week
and my heart
gets me on weekends
they never speak to one another - instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every week
and their notes they
send to one another always says the same thing:
“This is all your fault”
on Sundays
my heart complains about how my
head has let me down in the past
and on Wednesdays my head lists all of the times my heart has screwed things up for me in the future
they blame each other for the state of my life
there’s been a lot
of yelling - and crying
so,
lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time with my gut
who serves as my unofficial therapist
most nights, I sneak out of the window in my ribcage
and slide down my spine
and collapse on my
gut’s plush leather chair that’s always open for me
~ and I just sit sit sit sit until the sun comes up
last evening,
my gut asked me
if I was having a hard time being caught between my heart
and my head
I nodded
I said I didn’t know
if I could live with either of them anymore
“my heart is always sad about
something that happened yesterday
while my head is always worried
about something that may happen tomorrow,” I lamented
my gut squeezed my hand
“I just can’t live with
my mistakes of the past
or my anxiety about the future,” I sighed
my gut smiled and said:
“in that case,
you should
go stay with your lungs for a while,”
I was confused
- the look on my face gave it away
“if you are exhausted about
your heart’s obsession with
the fixed past and your mind’s focus
on the uncertain future
your lungs are the perfect place for you
there is no yesterday in your lungs there is no tomorrow there either
there is only now
there is only inhale there is only exhale there is only this moment there is only breath
and in that breath
you can rest while your heart and head work their relationship out.”
this morning, while my brain was busy reading tea leaves
and while my
heart was staring at old photographs
I packed a little bag and walked to the door of
my lungs
before I could even knock she opened the door
with a smile and as
a gust of air embraced me she said
“what took you so long?”
/////
The yoga teacher (online at Monona Terrace Convention Center in Madison) recited this on Friday and I do, certainly, spend time angry at both my head and my heart. Mostly my head for getting me into these things (or not doing enough or messing up)
I added carriage breaks so it doesn't become just a long, long series of lines. I put them in where the natural breaks seemed to come in the writing.