Thought Experiment

I am struck by

how simple

the complicated is.

One awakens to the world

as a thought experiment

gone wrong.

The mind

course-corrects—

unlocking,

reverberating,

recombining,

twisting back

through the labyrinth

of how this experiment

came to be.

Why was there

no internal review board?

No code of ethics?

No governing body

to advise?

Then you settle

into the body—

the actual body—

and realize

the mind,

the head,

this communal,

consensus-built

thought experiment

is only

a figurehead.

It has no power.

But the body—

oh, the body—

she governs

because she remembers.

She negotiates quietly

in community

with soul

and self,

even while the mind wanders,

the thought experiment unravels,

asserting authority

it does not possess.

She holds.

She nourishes.

She loves.

She is like women

in society—

men legislate

so to speak,

establishing structure,

rules and bylaws,

hierarchy,

domination.

But the body—

the feminine body,

the body politic—

feeds the babies,

feeds the living,

holds remembrance,

keeps the heartbeat,

nourishes the brain

silently,

without acknowledgment,

until she is

too exhausted

to serve.

This is awakening:

the remembering

of the body

in a world

that wants only

your brain.

The remembering

of the body

in a world

that demands motion,

productivity,

subservience.

The body burns out.

The soul tatters & frays.

Both fall out of rhythm

with the mind—

the third angle

in the trinity

of balance.

They pull it

back into form

until the shape

becomes equilateral.

Because

fuck a right angle.

And an isosceles life

cannot stand upright

for long.

So awakening

is triangulating

your position

inside the failed

thought experiment—

and reclaiming

space,

mind,

being

as your own.