Like so many Americans, I now get to wander the land of “mystery ailment,” as I’m a mess of come and go, circulating neuromuscular issues, spasms, pins and needles, wobbly-headedness, and more – from the top of my head to my longish toes.
If you’re not aware, I’ve had an onset of a neuromuscular syndrome – yet undefined – over a month ago; brought on after months of painful dentistry.
(Dentists should not work so long or so deep as the one who worked on me. They imagine that Novocain actually blocks pain – so they tell themselves it blocks trauma, too. It does block some pain, but the trauma remains…more on that as I go.)
I was tasked in a progressive panic to get a brain scan, a magnetic photo of my skull and everything that lives in and on it. The machine made inhuman sounds; you’re trapped in a tube in a Hannibal Lechter mask with nowhere to go but behind your closed eyes for 1 hour 20 minutes. (That’s two scans, head and neck.)
The result? Normalcy. The scan showed what the doctor could only shake his head and call a “normal, healthy brain” (much to the dismay or protestations of my detractors).
Why my body now acts as though it’s trying to leave me, and doesn’t want to participate any more in my plans, is the mystery of a long moment.
The words and suggestions have come in: fluoride toxicity, metal toxicity, B-12 deficiency, magnesium deficiency… I can only assure you that if I were taking any more supplements I would become a pill bottle.
My diet has also flexed to include bites of foods that I do not like very much, though I still avoid foods I hate. These little bites are in the hopes that allowing my intestines to extract whatever vitamineral-substances they might offer might generally decrease the issue and increase stability.
(Those of you who cry that I’m not a vegan must understand that I never have been in my mind; those of you who cry that what I need is more lard or liver must understand that I can’t fathom what might be in a mouthful of lard that isn’t in a bite or two of fish or fowl.)
So, what tasks my body, my mind, my neuromuscular system? Given that this started after months of dentistry, I’m more likely to put the blame there…
This low boiling chronic aggravation is just that kind of thing that drives people to be much less focused on complexity, and far more rooted in the hour to hour….
Which is a bitch, because my work, my mind, my life, my way of being – however satisfying and unsatisfying it has become to me – has grown organically to involve itself with a constant exploration of deep complexity.
One thing this is teaching me: have more fun. Life is, life can be, life might be very short, and the horrible truth is – no matter how hard we try, we’ll never figure much out, and we’ll never change the system we were born into. We’re not free, and no matter how we try to be, we’ll never be free.
We’re tribal. We always pray to a set of gods, and fear another set of demons, set out for us by a society or culture or tribe that originated its totems and taboos in time out of mind, in periods so long forgotten that even archeology can’t quite define their borders in the ancient ruins.
If I am working, it will at a slower pace, and much less in video, which requires performance of a type that I’m not sure I have so much energy for. So, in writing, punctuated by “time outs” for my confused and bewildered nervous system, I will try to continue as I can.
I see something in my plight of Icarus, of course; one always looking for truth will get burnt by the sun.
But why look for truth? I’ve already said: we can’t tolerate much of it; we don’t seek it – we only pretend to.
In reality – if we can use such a word as “reality” when our worlds are composed of mental fictions turned into real world theme parks – we seek stories that divert us from deep reality, we abhor deeper realities that ask us to change, to abandon our cherished fables, to examine and perhaps abandon our myths. We hate logic, especially when it is applied to our emotional and psychological lives…
Why should we pretend to ever be seeking truth? What we seek is noise. We seek diversion, distraction, and most of all: Mythic Explanation for our plight.
And in the end, to human beings, the truth is irrelevant. What we like to have is comfort, safety, stories about our noble origins and our punishing and tasking gods, which help us explain our plight to our ever hungry imagination; that thing that feeds on narratives, not truth; that thing we never can satisfy.
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