BELLY
Saturday Nov. 2, 2013
I have a belly.
Flat-abs days are ancient history, though I can dream . . .
In my belly lives laughter some, feeling some, microbes and last night’s dinner. And curiosity. Some people might keep their curiosity on high alert, wear it on their sleeve or somewhere else – where they hide deep hurt. To know people though, we can’t just look at one part – we need to disassemble everything.
Examined parts.
What is working, what is not, what is healthy, what is about to fail, what is oddly askew – long life might not depend on it, but happy life surely will. Some mornings I take this very seriously. Some mornings I sleep late and don’t want to get out of bed, but most mornings I can’t wait.
Wondering.
What IS inside them?
Intriguing mysterious ones – blondes, brunettes, red-heads – yes, you guessed it, understanding what is inside women.
Not as a group, but this one.
Or that one.
One at a time.
Put aside those great haircuts, shapely shapes, belly-laughs and pretty smiles, what lives inside might be crocodiles, cauldrons of witches brew, or stew. Gentle-men, beware there might be magnificent seascapes, pleated drapes, peeled grapes there ~ but no escapes ~ yikes, what’s in there?
Dare we venture, do we care to explain why we are there?
And, seriously, can you really get inside someone’s head?
Maybe, with a plumber’s snake, go in through an ear in conversation, venture down to the belly in search of history and mystery – find out what gut-feel is by feeling your way through guts … and then head north, into the brain-space, collide with childhoods and father-issues, shattered dreams and unmet desires, broken hearts and faulty parts, near death experiences and life not completely dared – and fires and heat, and choirs singing lullabies and torch songs, bawdy thoughts and body-images .. yikes, it’s scary in there – best to exit, at the rear and pretend you were never here!
When doctors do autopsies, cut into people – to find out why they died, they examine their parts, to see what was working, what was not, what was on verge of failure and what was oddly askew. This is the heart of so many dramas we read about or see on TV and movie screens – essential to find the means, to help unmask evil doers …
I’m curious more about living people. Not just miracles of longevity like my dad. Or shortened ones, like my friend Gary. Saddened ones like _____, ______ and ______. (we all know a few of those)
Exploring someone’s inner workings is a lot like hockey – lots of skating around, quick shifts from offence to defense, and back again. Scoring points might be fun in the repartee moments but when the goal is finding a winning combo that works, season after season, not so simple, not so quick, not so superficial.
What makes their complexity, or simplicity, what helps us understand? Certainly some people are open books, talk lots (some might say “yapped your face off”) which is all good but does that tell us what we need to know, let alone what we want to know? I am curious. I am in plain sight. Plain spoke, plain folk … I’m not; I like to explore what is inside, what makes people tick.
And what gets them ticked-off too, what sends them off on tantrums of lost temper (no need to see it – just to understand it, in a prevention mode), diffuse mystification and absurdity, or maybe, just maybe it is better to wander around in a pool of ambiguity?
… no, not, nyet!
Sometimes I feel like I learned everything I ever needed to know over dim-sum long ago, sometimes I feel like I know nothing at all. I have come to believe the complex paths of others are not meant for merger as much as they are a teaching tool to help me find my own route. Seems like such a waste, so much work, for just one guy to find his way. Maybe I should ask for direction? Anyone got a map, a compass or flashlight I can borrow?
….. oh, and a plumber’s snake, I’ll need one of those.
Mark Kolke
292,556
P.S.: text messages are funny – I just got one, could be Freudian slip, or just mistyp-ing because keys are smaller than finger-tips – Obj …. Zigmund, vhat does that mean?
column written/ published from Calgary
morning walk: -1C/30F, temperature dropping … snow started a while ago, wonderful, wet and slippery --- Gusta wearing a white coat, nosing around in the snow oblivious to my carefully calculated steps (my dodgy ankle feeling much better from lots of stretching) to avoid pratfalls. I’m thinking a long mall walk might be in my near future ..
Comments Received:
Kula in Maui? Are you a Maui fan, too? Thanks so much for sending along your "musings": fantastic!, CK, ?
Hi Mark, The spam filter on my website snags your daily post every time and it seems to be untrainable. Might you be able to change my address on your mailing list to ##########, please? It should work better, MH, San Francisco, CA
