Bear and Brain Fur

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear.

Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair.

And you know the rest.

What do you do when the Foam Cabinet lets loose a hairless bear?

Yeah, I don't know, either.

So I have this thing called a brain. (I bet you have one, too.) The brain is the most complex thing we can hold in our hands. (Besides a person with a brain inside it.) Hold a brick, and you've got some fired clay. Hold a computer, and you've got some bits of electronically stimulated metal. Hold a brain, and you've got someone's entire universe.

Or do you?

The brain's primary function is to store and convey information. You get kicked in the elbow, and your elbow starts hurting. You see a familiar person, and you either smile, or kick them in the elbow. 

Did you know that if the brain wasn't suspended in gooey gel stuff called "cerebral fluid" inside our skull, it would crush itself under its own weight?

A crushed brain does you no good. 

I also have this thing called a heart. (I'm pretty sure you have one of those.) This muscly little powerhouse is possibly as equally complicated as the brain is. If not for the rib cage and spinal cord, a simple little jab could destroy the bloody pump. Not only does the heart supply blood flow throughout the body, but it stores the most powerful emotional memory of any body part; even more than the brain. People who've had heart transplants sometimes "remember" things that happened to the person who previously owned the heart. 

It's almost as if the soul is stored there...

Both of these organs make up the basis of who we are inside. That, plus whatever a soul and spirit is. I haven't quite figured that all out yet. Anyway, these organs are heavily guarded. To damage them would be to damage your entire life. 

How do you know if your heart or brain is damaged?

How can you tell when you're truly hurt inside?

For one, you can usually feel the pain.

If someone offends you, your chest hurts. That's your heart. Your heart is telling you that you have been unloved by another living soul. Some people just ignore it. Some people develop anger or hatred. Some people turn it back around and become stronger. And some people break completely. 

If you fail at something, your head hurts. That's your brain. Your brain is telling you that, although you may have tried, and believed that your methods of action would work, a calculation had gone wrong, which resulted in failure. Some people develop a strong sense of frustration, which starts to hurt the heart as well. You can't focus. Some people just ignore the failure as if it never happened. Some people simply try again, developing a sense of perseverance. And some people just cannot get over it, and become stressed. 

What would it be like if you could strip away all your bear-fur and see what the essence of your heart and brain were? Imagine if you could look at your heart, and know exactly what was wrong with it. You could see exactly what causes it pain. Then you could figure out how to make it better, right? Imagine if you could look at your brain. You could see the broken problem clearly, and find out how to fix it in the blink of an eye. 

If you were to be able to see these things, would you do anything about it? Would you become a better person? Would you be a strong, fierce bear, or a quivering little skeleton? 

What if I told you that you CAN see your own heart?

What if I told you that you CAN see your own brain?

You see, these two organs are connected. Your brain tells your heart to pump blood, and your heart pumps blood essential to the brain. It's a cycle. 

If you think about it, and look at your life, you can probably find the plank in your eye; see who kicked your elbow.

If you can't see the problem, I'm sure someone else can tell you for you. 

I'm saying all of this because it has happened to me: the realization that my heart (and brain) were/are kind of REALLY messed up. Usually it only takes an hour in the shower to figure it out, but sometimes... sometimes it takes an army of brave, courageous people to shave the little bear that I am.

The Foam Cabinet gives me strange analogies, doesn't it?