Inertia

Why is everything better when we're moving? Humans were made to move. We think better, breathe better, function better when we're in motion...but we resist it. Everything in our world is designed to keep us still. We travel by sitting in cars or boats or trains or planes. We entertain ourselves by sitting still and watching pictures move, or by sitting still and reading, or by sitting and talking.

I have noticed over the years and when I am moving as I talk, the conversation moves. It has a purpose, a point, a goal. It gets somewhere. When I move my body takes over and my mind takes as much of a backseat as it will stand. And that's great, because when it comes down to the basics of living, my mind has no clue as to what it's doing. My body understands, my body knows. My mind screws everything up. And that makes sense, because out of three brains, two are concerned with survival. From one (reptilian) to two (mammalian) to three (neocortex), the sections are increasingly superfluous. Ego, id, superego. Three's a crowd, right? Let's trash the superego. It screws everything up. I want to move, but superego (illogically, because everything in humanity is perverted somehow) says no, sit, stew, mull, contemplate. ROT. Body says move, and move I should. Superego says no. It's nice to dream neocortex, but I'd rather be sane.

I know this probably makes no sense. I probably won't be able to understand it when I read it later. But I need to move! I want to move! I feel so much better when I move! But something in me keeps me still. I throw up walls all around myself until I can't move at all, can't breathe, can't function. Even walking destabilizes them a little, and that is GOOD. So maybe the thing in me that keeps me still is another wall. Is protecting all the protections I've built up to entomb myself inside my own mind. Awesome. I want a sledgehammer for my birthday.


Other: I was babysitting for Hartley and Lael (both of whom I love) tonight, and Chloe came at 8:30 to take over, but I stayed to hang out with her. And I guess I'm glad I did, because even though we were reading our own books, we were sitting together, being together and talking occasionally. And I got to spend some time with H and L when they got home. And after we left their house I decided to walk home, and then to walk around the neighborhood a little while before coming inside. I just needed the motion. I needed the air. I needed the stars, but they are hidden tonight, behind a mask of clouds, which are illuminated by the pink-orange lights of the city. My mom always says the color is pretty, but it looks like vomit to me. I can't bring myself to appreciate the light pollution, and with the sky overcast it makes me claustrophobic. Sometimes it's hard to stand living in a place where you can't see the stars. It makes me ache for Jimmy and Missy's pond at night.

My point though was that I missed my chance to call David, about which I am feeling a little disappointed and a little guilty. I am just sorry, because he texted earlier and asked if I wanted to talk, and I did! But I asked if he would wait a while because I was spending time with Chloe. But then Lael and Hartley came back later than I thought, and I had forgotten that we always talk so long, and then I couldn't stand the thought of going inside or talking to anyone before I had walked a little, breathed a little, been alone with the air and winter and God a little. And then he texted me again, and said he needed to go to sleep, and I felt like the worst kind of self-centered little girl. It isn't okay for me to put him (or anyone) off like that. I am so sorry.

I wish things were simpler. It's so easy to romanticize nature, though I know it is often a cruel, eat-or-be-eaten world. Still, that's a simple rule. Sometimes I think I'd gladly sacrifice this weak and problem-riddled swiss cheese homo sapien brain for one that made more sense. For one that made any sense.

To quote "O Brother, Where Art Thou?,"
It's a fool that looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart.