Kiss Your Brain

Recently I've learned a few things. loml. Social media fatigue led users to JOMO: the joy of missing out. Jacob Collier's Little Blue and Yuuri's Dried Flowers. The merger treatment septic tank is environmentally friendly. Mom's guilt is a basic universal feeling. You can soak banana peels in a bottle of water and use that to fertilize your basil plants with potassium.  

Sometimes, I feel sorry for the brain. It has this neverending function to learn, relearn, and unlearn. Even if you don't go to school, open a book, or download a reading app, the street university will always throw you a lesson or two. It's always there: remembering, interpreting senses, connecting the dots, maritessing, comparing, analyzing, creating. Perhaps daydreaming and talking to itself too. It's like a hamster on a neverending wheel run or a ball rolling down an endless slope. It can't afford to fall or stop; it knows what a misstep means. 

You see, I have my own share of fainting moments. Having collapsed several times, I can describe what it feels like to shut down. Your body starts to feel weak, and your instinct hurries to find a safe place to lie down. You involuntarily close your eyes, and then your soul seems to enter this dark tunnel, the light from the entrance gradually turning into stars on a dark night, losing their twinkle one by one. Before you know it, you're transported into the darkest void alone. Now speed up this scene in 10 seconds, and that's what losing consciousness is like--too fast for metaphors. 

Fortunately, my syncope as a perceived "misstep" is only situational, a reset lasting only a few seconds. But at times, I wonder what would happen if my brain didn't recover. This isn't the first time I've pondered this topic, so allow me to share a few things that have crossed my mind.

1. Who are the five people I'll meet in heaven? And will I get to have a spitting contest with one of them? Hello, Mitch Albom! 
2. My husband and I have signed up for life insurance as a financial resource in case one of us passes away. I refer to it as "death insurance."
3. In the Philippines, it's common for the family of the deceased to offer food to the guests at the wake. If I were to die in my home country and you wanted to pay your respects, bring your own coffee.
4. Who will say a standard prayer and who will tell God something from the heart?
5. How much garbage will I leave behind, and who will have to deal with it? 
6. How many of my dreams will die with me? 

With my life on earth, I don't think I will be like Hachiko, the famous dog remembered for his loyalty to his owner. I don't expect a statue, let alone many people visiting my grave. I will most likely be a red ladybug on a fresh green leaf. Most people would ignore this insect, but I can only hope I stand out to a few. 

As I end this post, let me kiss my brain to encourage it to keep thinking until I'm ready to face death. How? A teacher at a preschool in Dumaguete suggested gently kissing your finger and then touching your head. Try it sometime!