the brain is a creature that is both intimately a part of us, and a thing of lore. i grew up fascinated with the brain as something full of “mysteries,” of a trove that could be “unlocked.” when i heard the piece of scientific trivia that the average person only uses 10% of their brain, it landed like an existential tragedy, a forlorn longing for fuller access to what is essentially supposed to be mine.
the other 90% of the brain has been depicted as a holy grail, or of a new frontier full of fertile and untainted openness. tales like flowers for algernon and limitless made access to this realm seem as enviable as fame or wealth. in the other 90%, there are languages to learn, nature to tame, belief to defy. the other 90% makes the difference between a man and a god.
i’ve always felt entitled to this other 90%. after all, it’s mine, isn’t it? i’ve run endless laps on the hamster wheel trying to sharpen my mind, just to see if i could make myself think that i could potentially break into the 11%. which would then mean what? it didn’t matter – i had already set my mind to it.
i valorized my brain over my body and my spirit, and have predictably become a part of the “thought economy.” in this career path, my brain has been my thor’s hammer, my prized horse where all my bets are placed. i have neglected my body, whose spine and shoulders ache from flying on planes and staring at screens to impress my thinking onto them. i have ignored my spirit, which has desperately begged for a slower pace at work and more time in solitude and with loved ones. it’s only in the past few weeks of slower, quieter living that i’m beginning to realize how tired my brain is – not only as a vessel of mental energy, but as a physical organ, as a mirror for my sense of self.
yes, my brain is tiiiiired. between all the thinking, reasoning, wondering, worrying, figuring, assuming, speculating, recalling, regretting, and repeating in my head (mostly of dru hill songs) i don’t actually know how this organ is still functioning. and to think that a sizable amount of that physical brain energy is spent on fantasizing about working it nine times harder? i must be out of my fucking mind.
i could really go forever in these circles of trying to think of how to allow my brain more rest. i’ve already spent the past hour clumsily trying to put this into words, make it seem like it matters, justify my thoughts for being thought in the first place. but i’m probably just going about it all wrong. probably a good first step is to just chill the fuck out. (i’m not really satisfied with the way i’m ending this but whatever)