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    Mental Necrophilia

           I spent the better part of yesterday afternoon mind-fucking something to death. Mental Necrophilia. And I can’t even say what it’s about, because that wouldn’t be fair to certain people. So forgive my vagueness.
           Ultimately, obsessive thinking is about me, not about whatever or whoever I’m obsessively thinking about. As always, the lesson in this situation is mine.
           If what I suspect is happening is actually happening, and I have strong circumstantial evidence that it is, then I’m hurt. And paradoxically, I’m also pleased. But if this certain something isn’t happening, I’m still hurt. And also somewhat relieved.
           So either way, yes or no, there’s a world of hurt attached to this. What that means is there’s still a world of hurt inside of me that I haven’t released yet. And therein lies my lesson.
           Mind screwing this thing sends me down a road I’ve traveled often. A road of self flagellation, fear, doubt, pain, and intense self hatred. My mind beats myself to a pulp because it, the mind, is obsessing. That’s like being with an alcoholic who drinks and then blames me for her drinking. It’s insane. But it’s where I go sometimes.
           It’s because I’m back in my head. It’s because my mind is a tool that sometimes uses me. When it comes to affairs of the heart, my mind is a terrible leader. When I hurt, or love, or feel, coming from my head leads to one result. Pain. But my heart leads me to my truth, every time. I have to be able to to quiet my mind and come from my heart. For the longest time, I couldn’t do that. I can now. I just sometimes forget, and I slip into an old bad habit.
           The integration of my mind, body, heart, and soul is my key to making decisions that serve me best. If those elements can communicate and integrate, then they serve me. Instead of me serving them. My whole self is thus the fluid and harmonious integration of what I feel, what I think, what I know, and what inspiration and intuition are telling me. Heart. Mind. Body. Soul.
           In this recent bout of mental necrophilia, my mind is not helping me. Because my mind is telling me how weak and foolish and worthless I am for feeling something. For wanting something.
           My heart knows that no matter what the truth is in this situation, the only solution is love. Self love first. Love for another second.
           When I lead with my heart, I quiet my mind. I stop mind-fucking, and my head can get back to constructive, not destructive, pursuits. Instead of telling me how bad I am, my mind can focus on how to get published. I need my mind for that. Strategic planning, research, analyzation - all things I’m very good at. All things I like to do. All functions where my mind takes the lead and guides me. So I put it to work where it’s needed. I focus it on what it’s good at. I keep it out of the emotional cookie jar, where it tells me that to feel is absurd. Where it tells me that following my heart is foolhardy.
           The first draft of this post was written freehand in a Barnes & Noble bookstore. On my way back to Cape Cod from Boston, I felt so compelled to write that I had to stop and set up shop there. On the shelf next to me is a mug that says:
                  Dance as though no one is watching
                  Sing as though no one is listening
                  Love as though you’ve never been hurt
                  Live as though heaven is on earth

           In the middle of reading it, I have to choke back the tears, so poignant are these words. Especially at this moment. People much wiser than I have said that there are no coincidences.
           I think about the words for a moment, and I break it down line by line.
           Dance as though no one is watching. I can honestly say that when I dance, I do it as though no one is watching. And I can dance. So when I let go, people end up watching. What a great paradox.
           Sing as though no one is listening. I sing all the time. In fact, I’m singing right now. “Sweet Baby James” by James Taylor. It’s on the P.A. system here, and I know the words, I love the song, and I’m singing it. Audibly. I sing in the car. I sing at home. I sing in line at the store. I even sing in the gym. I know people are sometimes listening, but I sing as if nobody is. I just love to sing. So I do. You should hear me at a rock concert.
           Love as though you’ve never been hurt. For the first time in my life, I’m loving as though I’ve never been hurt. For twenty-five years, I loved with the memory of pain. I know what that feels like. Now I’m loving somebody who isn’t with me, says she doesn’t want me, and has hurt me worse than anybody ever has. And I still love her. I’ve thrown my heart on the table for her, more than once. I’ve written about her here, on numerous occasions. I share whatever is in my heart with anybody who reads my blog. I do it because it’s how I feel. I do it because it’s my truth. I do it because, regardless of how she feels about me, I love her. That’s loving like I’ve never been hurt.
           The last phrase on the mug, Live as though heaven is on earth, is the perpetually tricky one. But three out of four isn’t bad.
           When my mind gets in the way, when it tries to lead when it should follow, I can’t do any of what it says on the mug. I can’t dance, or sing, or love, or live, the way I want to. The way I need to.
           Obviously, I need my mind to write. But my mind takes direction from my heart. I write from my heart. My head simply assists. My mind and my body are tools that my heart and soul use to express themselves. This is the type of integration and communication I alluded to earlier. The type where my whole self participates in the creation of my life. This is one reason writing is so special to me.
           When my mind was causing me pain and turmoil, I followed my heart into this bookstore. I followed my heart to write this piece. I have followed my heart on this journey that began when it got broken. Shattered beyond my recognition. And following my broken heart, that from all “reasonable” accounts wasn’t working very well, has allowed me to create this blog and finally share all of myself. Following my broken heart has allowed me to get in touch with a life time of pain, and allowed me to finally start to release it. Following my broken heart has opened up my life in ways that my mind never could. Following my broken heart has allowed me to know, on a level previously foreign to me, that self love is the key to my being. Following my broken heart has, ironically, allowed me to love like I’ve never been hurt.
           My heart continues to lead me. For sure, that is a road less traveled. Especially for a man. But that is my path. Looking back, though, I’m not surprised. Because on virtually every level, at virtually every turn, I’ve taken a path less worn. Listened to a different drummer. However you want to put it.
           Sometimes, it takes painful, frustrating situations like these to remind me to follow my heart and not my head. Someday, I hope to know that so deep within me that I don’t have to go to that dreadfully painful place in order to get back to where I need to be. When that happens, I will be living as though heaven is here on earth. And then I will truly be free...

    ©2008 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and a head full of Wrongs) Reserved.

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    Reader Comments (1)

    this is a very eloquent explanation of an elusive subject. I was trying somewhat unsucessfully to pin this down in some of my other blog responses. I think you nailed it. I really admire your tenacity to do the work necessary for "the integration of my mind, body, heart, and soul " The ultimate goal is to live in an rational, loving manner with intelligence and intention. There is a place for both logical thought AND heartfelt or intuitive direction. It is a delicate balancing act with great rewards. More power to you.

    December 12, 2008 | Unregistered Commenterasven

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