Bones Sinking like Stones I am trying to figure something out that I have never completely wrestled with before and now my head is turning inside out with propositions and inquiries: What do I think the purpose, goal, or use is of the mind, the body, and the soul. Just about everything I do in a day relates to one of these three qualities so I ought to figure this out before making more ignorant claims or imposing my ideas onto my lifestyle.

The mind: to oldtime philosophers, it is the same thing as the soul and at times, that rings clear to me. But the fact that I can feel things in my soul but can't exactly reason them, where reason is the key element of the mind and the tool by which it exists, proves that there is a distinction. Now the real question is should I live to develope my ability to reason? Or perhaps my minds capacity to hold information? Or should I exploit my knowledge to gain control? After all, if I have done the tedious job of planting, harvesting, and growing a powerful tool like a sharp mind, why not reap the benefits and use the grain? Is the mind a good thing, able to find me truth, value, and reality and thus give me realistic direction? Or is the mind a temptrest, who only shoots down all that faith sleeps upon, kills dreams and imagination, and stabs the dreams and loves of men? As I am spending (and have spent) a great majority of my life in school developing my academic mind, I am beginning to feel a bit cheated for never having questioned the value and purpose of a great mind.

The Body: a tool, instrument, cloak, sheild, fortress, temple, machine, space waster, you name it. We tune, fix, spend, ruin, abuse, protect, and glorify this thing we live in. Some people will never see themselves as anything but a body, whereas others spend their lives wishing they lived in some other vessel or none at all. As a dancer, I liked to see my own body as a tool for expression, a means of communication and a thing to be used. Those who spend hours in the gym to look a certain form will never really USE their body, only shape it to resemble something useful. I say that they are as well off having plastic surgery to fix their imperfections the fast way because at least then there is no wasted energy. Then again, there is the view that to use the body means a right to abuse. Is it justified, if our body is simply a means of carying out our will, to cut, bruse, inject, pollute, break and tear the one physical machine we will ever have? Is it self-destructive and foolish? Or living to the fullest without regret and without inhibitions? I suppose the only thing that keeps me from comsidering the well-being and longevity of my body above the desire and fun factor is the idea of my body as an art. I like to decorate, mold, work and push my body to music and every time the line gets more perfect, more beautiful, more correct and articulate, the more joy and pride I get out of my dance. Therefore I strive for images of physical perfection so that I may create something to make existence more beautiful. Vain? Maybe. Conceeded? Yes. But wasting away from malnurishment and abuse is just as self-centered. I will forever struggle though on the fine line between the two extremes of physical preservation and physical abuse. I must spend time in each and dwell inbetween, but what falls where?

And lastly, the soul: clouded as Californian water fresh from the tap, the very idea of the soul has implications ranging from God's dwelling place to a figment of the imagination. I know that it exists only because there is no other name for some things that are felt but never experienced physically. It is where I store all the irrational, unjustified but just the same true things in my life. These things aren't feelings, thoughts, moments or ideas, but raw gutty premonitions like love, hate, and everything in between. What I wonder is how some can live completely dependent and devoted to the soul, while others will be born and die without giving its existance a thought? Does the soul regulate my morality (known formally as a conscience) or is that really my mind on autopilot? If it is my mind, than what is the point of my soul? Traditionally speaking, the soul is the part of the human that never dies. I can believe that, in fact I will believe that, but only because my very understanding of my own soul tells me too. Is that not cirular reasoning? More and more I am starting to think that my soul is more like the spirit inside of me, the essence of existence that every living thing has but only I can fathom and grasp truthfully. If that is the case, then I must take it, protect it, nurish it and strive to understand it because the very innate and basic things in this world are often the only things that can be trusted.

Conclusion? There is none. As for insights I found in this stream of conciousness? My mind is powerful but is being fed the wrong foods, my body will be perfect only in the eyes of the loving so I should look for love instead of flawlessness, and my soul is in some dire need of attention. Tonight calls for some quality reading, apples, and meditation.  ¶ 4:42 PM