When there is no room left between your back and the wall;
I am me and you are you,
undressed and undecorated,
then we are us
in true form.
When there is no room left for blame or shame or guilt
or the need to point a finger
to find accountability for things that are far beyond our control,
then there is rest.
Then there is peace, if we so choose
The thought machine—
That’s what I call it. The thought machine is the stations of our mind. This is where survival mode comes from flight or fight, eat, drink, breathe, seek shelter, and sleep.
This is the oldest part of the thought machine, which only thinks about basis function. There is no fear or concern here. There is no worry in this station. All is simple in this part—it’s like wash, rinse, and repeat.
I remember the most honest thing anyone ever said to me. I was about to enter a new chapter in my life. I was afraid, — or worried is more like it. I was afraid of the people I would see. I was afraid of what people might think or say. I was uncomfortable with my anticipation and uncomfortable about the things I would face.
The chapter was new and so was I. I had to make changes both physically and personally. I had to stop much of my previous behaviors and stay clear of some of my previous relationships because the road they led down was not a road I was interested in travelling.
We are moving closer to the warmer season now. I think of the marinas and the fishing boats. I think of the breakers and the waves, the beach, the need to feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair.
I think of the docks, I think about the vessel of my dreams, my boat, and the way it looks in my fantasy. I think of the pilothouse, or the wheelhouse as we call it. I imagine the moments before sunrise at first light and the sound of my diesels as they hum like an anxious pony just aching to leave her stable.
I would like to share what Sunday morning looks like to me. I wake early before the sun and I head into the kitchen. I move slowly, tired but yet, I’m awake.
I go over to my trusty friend the coffee machine. I proceed to the cabinet where I fetch my cup and place the cup beneath the little spout, which is where the coffee gods deliver their nectar.
I push a little blue light, which creates a quick electrical sound that follows with the dribble of water falling into the echo of my empty coffee cup.
I like this sound by the way. I love the smell of my coffee being brewed.
Before going forward about the thought machine and how it works, I think it is important that we define what the thought machine is. We need to understand the wiring and how our machine operates.
The thought machine is our brain. Like any machine, the thought machine has switches and relays and sensors and safeties. Think about a circuit board; think about a control room with big switches and dials.
At our best, we achieve a sense of balance or stability, otherwise known as homeostasis. All the connections are made; the machine is good, The lights are bright, the air is sweet, and all’s right with the world. This is us at our best. This is us without any interruption or disturbance.
However, the thought machine is alarm sensitive. When all systems check, the current flows smoothly.
And then there’s music.
Thank the heavens. Thanks to whomever or whatever.
Just be thankful there is such a thing.
Thanks for the sound.