Gut Feelings

Seejay told me over lunch the other day that there in our gut exist some fibres that contain neurons or neuronic tissue. It is through them that we feel butterflies in our stomachs, or where we feel from the heart. She called it a second brain. This second brain cannot reason or make any decisions or start cyclones at all, but it does send information to the older brother brain about how the process of digestion is going. I'm big on digestion myself. I love talking about it, one reason being that it fascinates me how a process so complex can occur inside me and I be scarcely aware of its happening. It works like clockwork; no, better, because I can hear no ticks or mechanisms growling.

I know that lately things have been indigestible, or rather that I have not been digesting them properly. And when things don't digest properly, that is where the session of reading on the toilet falls well, because I can read and learn that crucial piece of insight that will make everything come out. The past few weeks, I have been gathering these pieces of insight, little glimmering pills, fed to my brain and passed to its little brother in the gut, to help with the passing.

These past three or four weeks, I felt several short-lived releases in the gut, followed by build-ups again of the same material somehow rearranged. The little brother brain went through a tough period, having to put up with the tumultuous behavior of the bigger brother sending down upheaval after upheaval, upsetting after upsetting. This material that kept circulating was a rehashing of what was previously sent down. Big brother brain went through a process of detoxification, and the unwanted matter was naturally passed down through the younger brother to be removed from the system entirely. And I felt it going, bit by bit.

The big brain is now at rest, though there is yet some digestion to be done. I am thankful they are on talking terms again, that they are hearing kinder words, instead of the older attacking the younger with what it has collected. It has to learn to understand that the younger brother brain cannot fight back; he cannot reason to pick a side in a war, let alone to defend himself. He just takes it until it's over.

He deserves better. He doesn't ask for much, just to be listened to and to let be in peace to do what it knows to do. As the mediator, I didn't much consider its existence - without a voice, I could hardly hear it, especially since the older brother had grown a habit of yelling out orders and judgments. But now I can hear it, since I can hear the quiet again, that fragile quiet post-natural disaster. It's been digesting for a long time, and it has intuitively known how to make things better. It took a long time for the big brother to listen to him, and when he did, he got even angrier and jealous that he hadn't figured it all out by himself. Little brother brain was reminding his sibling to include him, even if just a little, to share with him some of the burdens, but instead the big brother brain, after no longer able to deny the existence of his sibling, turned his fury onto him, blotting him out.

Little brother knew that the storm was of big brother's making, but he couldn't get angry, for it was not in his capacity to, so instead he let it pass, trusting that I would listen to the silent call for help. His message came in increments, and I began to have doubts. Big brother brain heard these doubts and twisted them into its own confused schemes. Still, the younger brother was persistent, and the message from the quiet built up vibrational frequency until I heard it. He had said, "Forgive you, brother." There was no "I", because he was not talking, and without one around which the cyclone could revolve, it disappeared. I learned then that while the big brother always had to have a voice as it could reason and propose things to the world, he could not do so without his younger sibling, who is much content to simply digest and let his brother know how that is going. The big brother brain has difficulty listening to silence, because it cannot hear that frequency, yet because that is the way little brother speaks, and I heard it speak, I realise now I can tune into it anytime.

He wants to be heard, the little one. He is wise, and I would be too, to listen.

To The Heart

How could I take in the thickness in the air of the thirty-seated room. How can I make sense that sitting on these seats are human beings, some met recently, some met seven years ago, who decided that it was worth their time and space to come and occupy those places.

I don't have many words, but these are right.

I am loved.

And I cannot help but love in return, love as a verb, as a state of being.

And you, you convinced me to be brave and love without holdings. And I feel I could have said words directly to you last night. And I didn't. And I don't regret it because I don't have any.

Just.
Just.
Just.

It went in the right place.