Reading myself has been cathartic in that I like the honesty with which I spoke to myself at the time. It was a crisis at multiple levels that is still in process, but I see struggles I used to have and I think “oh that’s no longer an issue!” some are perennial like the avoidant pattern towards relationships of all types. I struggle both in solitude and in relationship, but in different ways. It is useful to accept this as a fact of life but also recognize the pattern in hesitations, yes but no, give me space and all those visceral reactions whose root cause is an irrational fear of rejection.

“Am I horny? Or do I want to be horny?” is a question I asked myself this morning as I was pedaling the bike. I was deliberately wanting to feel and produce the cycling motion at my hips, bringing blood and sensation into the pelvic area. I thought: “would it be wrong to want to be horny?” the answer came: “only if it is a form of escape”. This was not escape, on the contrary, I was more present than when lost in thought. As for the results, other than getting a moment of pleasure from my morning commute, no homo erectus was spotted along the way.

I’m investigating the fascia, trying to find content from anatomy trains. What I’ve found is fascinating, perhaps in a morbid way. They show you cadavers and how our muscles are in reality, and how they contained and connected to each other through connective tissue. What fascinates me is to see those movements that I can feel inside exposed as muscle and fascia, and this somehow completely overrides my healthy aversion to see cadavers (it feels nice! as a kid I used to be a regular of rotten.com and I still wish I could unsee it).