Telepathic Teddy Bear - My Body's a Question

No, there's no answer. That's the point. I thought my body was a riddle, or an enigma, or at least very very confused. But then I heard this song, and my perception changed. It's a question, without an answer, and that makes it ok to stop looking for the answer that does not exist.

I ran across this song several months ago. My cousins were promoting their friend's new album - Reflections, by Telepathic Teddy Bear.  I listened, and listened, and listened, and for months now, this song keeps popping into my head. The whole album is great, but this one, well...

http://telepathicteddybear.bandcamp.com/track/my-bodys-a-question

I somehow don't think the composer ever intended it to be interpreted as I do, but that is the beauty of art. The artist puts something forth, and meaning is created somewhere in between the output and the reception in the back and forth between artist and audience. I don't know much about the composer, except that he is originally from Mexico, and I can assume safely that he is in his early 30's. I have no idea what challenges he has faced in his life that have brought him to the point of writing poignant music, but it doesn't matter so much, because art transcends personal experience and becomes something that speaks to the shared human experience. This song does speak to me, and it speaks of my own struggles to let go of my deep desire for control and ultimately, answers.

Change and the Physiological Response

Oh. My. God! I just got it. I wrote the title to this, and I got it. See, this is why I blog! Wow.

I was about to write that my dear friend, Maggie, who sometimes comments on my posts, came over last night, and we both being so intrigued by life, brains, and personal growth, got to talking about my brain and symptoms, and those of someone close to her with a mental health issue, and how they compare (a lot of them are frighteningly similar). Then I wrote "Change and the Physiological Response" and I flashed to this morning, and my involvement with the Montessori Canadian centenary celebration, and my involvement with people in general, and my distinct need to cocoon, especially when flaring. It all makes sense now.

Ok, let me go back a bit. Before I went into a state of extreme healing, I had some resistance to change, as we all do. However, I was also incredibly spontaneous, and made a real effort through most of my adult life to let go of that, and I was quite successful - you have to be to a) live with my family, and b) work in a Montessori setting. No option. At all. But since I've been home, I've been getting this really strong reaction to the slightest unexpected situations. I know how it comes off - it comes off as me being cranky and stubborn. But it's not - it's an actual physiological response.

Medical Check-in

I've noticed that I'm writing a lot less lately, and mostly it's because I don't have much to say. I wonder if that means I am coming to terms with the way my life is going, or if maybe I've said so much already. Maybe it's a sign that my brain is settling down a bit, and I'm not having quite so many internal conversations that I need to get out so I can relax and rest. That would mean my anxiety levels are down, which is very true.

In any case, today I do have something to say, and it is all good news - at least for someone seeking answers and guidance. It always amuses me that those of us who have these mysterious health issues get so excited when our test results actually show something concretely negative. It's cause for celebration. We tend to feel the same way when we finally get a diagnosis, often after years of trying to get one. It is validating, and it is a relief to know that somebody has some sort of clue about what is going on in our bodies.