The Gut Smarter Than the Brain

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525519_4150106042419_1301880802_nSo, why is it that when it comes to incredibly important life decisions we often rely on our stomach and not our brain and mind?

I feel it in my gut that this is the right thing to do.

It being of course the life changing move that we are about to make. Nice that we allow an entire two consonant word to represent the big decisions we make during our life span.

The stomach is for digesting food and drink not being the reason supporting life altering decisions?

Or is it that the mind and the brain have already weighed in and the stomach is just the television news crew telling a story of procrastination, our procrastination to improve the quality of our lives.

In reality the stomach or gut that is screaming that we should follow the decision already made by the mind and brain is a great example of the body-mind connection. Our stomach is not making any decisions and has very little control. It is the big, dummy cheering in the corner for the cool kids: the mind and brain. The mind and brain just wants to play along and embraces the role of the big, lovable lama ox that ultimately helps us get across the finish line.

The stomach is reacting to the mind’s reminder that a path has been selected and we are going to miss the train, plane and boat if we don’t get a move on. The subtle and often sub-conscious mind reminders fuel small waves of affect that are “felt” in the gut. Our excitement generated as the result of thinking about a change is felt in the stomach, where, apparently, all emotions take flight as physiological sensations.

How can you not love a system that is cognitive, emotional and physical. The three magic powers designed to help us just get our heads our of our asses AND those asses off of the couch.

Listen to your stomach. When it growls, feed it. When it says, get your ass in gear…take a leap of faith and do it.

Lucic & His Becoming Gesture

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We live in a society obsessed with:

  • vicarious violence and
  • and sexuality.

Collectively, as a repressed and needing of good cathartic purge, we love hockey, football, action-adventure movies, reality TV (as long as someone else is an ass and we are not the subject of the television voyeuristic exploits) and anything have to do with sexuality.

Combine them together, say a large breasted, blonde cheerleader is held hostage by drug induced captors, during a hockey game, during which an unlikely hero saves the day by locking a shootout goal, then saves the cheerleader while still in his pads by beating the shit out of the captors with his stick.

We are also a tweeting, posting, status updating society comfortable with “saying” just about anything, anywhere because it offers an emotive release and we believe that people really give a shit about our opinions. We bully, appear as stupid and brainless with no effort at all.

So, why then , when a hockey player, pretends to masturbate toward fans of the opposing crowd, can’t we (or more to the point the news media) just report that the player simulated masturbation while being sent to the penalty box?

What puberty experiencing young man has not done this very thing after his parents have sent him to his room for view porn on their iPad?

Are we so delicate a society?

Are we so polite?

Or are we all just full of shit?

I have been to many hockey games and most of the fans do not appear to be overly sensitive. They yell, “FUCK!” when a goal is scored against them. They tell they opposing goal that he “sucks ass.” They taunt the other team and their fans. It’s hockey.

I’d have a lot more confidence in the news media and society if we just were congruent with our worlds: private and public. I’d feel alot better about society if we just got our heads out of our asses and were more genuine and authentic with each other.

My Tractor is Sexy!

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0806001455Well, it is that time of the year once again: leaf collection time.

Oh, goodie. How I live to do yard work. Then again, when you can light shit on fire, sit on your ass, watch shit burn and drink beer…well, perhaps I do live for yard work.

With over twenty trees in the back yard (12 oaks, a couple of wild cherries and a maple) by the end of October, I have a 1″ layer of leaves. No shit! A blanket of leaves hides the lawn, walk ways, dog shit and basically everything on the ground. The first year that I lived in this house I had never seen such an overnight drop of leaves or a layer of leaves like the one that appears overnight in my backyard.

And there is only one way that I can cope and deal with all of these leaves: my tractor, a turbo-leaf collector, a couple of collection bags attached to the tractor, matches, lighter fluid and buckets of water. Oh, and a camp chair (a log if I want to be really back woods) and a cooler of beer.

One the leaves fall I spend hours upon hours sucking up the leaves, driving to one of two burn piles, adding leaves strategically to the constantly burning leaf piles, raking and repeating from sun up to sun down all weekend long for several weekends. Fun!

Ah, the fucking joys of home ownership.

If it weren’t for my non-alcoholic beer, camp chair (and log), love of campfires and burning yard waste and the knowledge that my wife gets turned on as she, in a voyeuristic manner, watches my fat ass working and toiling in the yard for hours, I would loose my mind.

 

Bonus Healing: Hockey Brawls

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- By Bobby Catharsis

What is it about a hockey fight that we all love.

I mean, we love brawls. We stand, we cheer, we shout and after we applaud. The players hit sticks. Why?

Simple, we all love genuine and vicarious catharsis.We let out OUR pent up hurt and fear AND expel built-up physical tensions through the cheering, yelling and shouting.

It’s like an organism. The toxins shoot from our soul and body, we scream and wiggle and wave our arms and make funny faces and boy does it feel good. It feels so good. If it feels good it heals good.

And when things feel good, we engage in them more often and even have a great catharsis.