Crystal Ball Control
Jun 06, 2008
After three years of self-imposed romantic celibacy and reflection, it's come to my attention that the very skill that makes me so successful out in the world getting things done, is completely useless when it comes to matters of the heart.
In the brain... Becoming completely immersed in a project, considering every aspect of what is and what could be, exploring all the logistical and human aspects, contingency planning, nailing down critical details, being forceful when appropriate, and occasionally doing triage. Looking into the future and controlling everything. This stuff produces reliable, high-quality results. I've applied this brutal method over the years to break parts of myself so that I may grow stronger and more capable. I've honed them and honed them and grown to rely on them. This is my dominant mode. I made a list of all the qualities my ideal mate would have, then forgot about it. All of my satisfactions and successes, all the milestones of self-betterment, and the clarity of existential completeness I've found have led me down the path to not need, expect, or even think possible or advisable that the heart ought to be involved. Everything was tidy. Nothing was missing.
In the heart...
My dream girl fell from the sky.
Nothing is missing now.
A shift has happened.
Before my brain would hunt for tasty and tastier brain food so my core could feast on self-satisfaction. The hunger was often distracting, it's appetite insatiable, and with no end except unto itself. That's its nature.
The heart is quiet, the heart is still, the heart doesn't need to talk-talk-talk. If the brain is a locomotive fed by shoveled coal, blowing off steam and heat and marauding ahead, the heart is a little nuclear reactor perpetually feeding itself.
Now the amazing clockwork dynamo with it's ravenous appetite has been freed to do what it does best - take care of wicked brain business.
Now the heart is freed to do what it does best, tend to itself as a gardener tends a flower, and be dignified in that legitimacy. The heart is its own sunshine, its own water, and its own soil.
No trespassing!
<silly> Love is stupid, love is dumb, shut up brain, 'cuz here it comes! </silly>