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Showing posts with label where are you slate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label where are you slate. Show all posts

Monday, 24 March 2014

Where are you?


Where are you? You are in your chest. Researchers “asked ten blindfolded adults to use a metal pointer to motion at ‘themselves.’ Most people indicated their upper torso area … ‘the torso is, so to speak, the great continent of the body, relative to which all other body parts are mere peninsulas. Where the torso goes, the body follows.’

... I wonder whether the ego doesn’t just go wherever you are focusing your attention. When I concentrate on my pinky finger, for instance, it seems to contain more ineffable selfhood than the kneecap I am ignoring. Also, do certain qualities of character lead us to affiliate more strongly with different body parts? Would a jock situate his soul in his bicep? Would a smart, geeky teenager identify as a brain? And, also, what exactly do we mean by “self”? I would certainly place my intellect inside my head; when I’m nervous, I can feel it in my stomach; as a white woman, I often benefit from the color of my skin. I am tempted to table this topic of inquiry as far too nebulous to ever invite the application of the scientific method—but, then again, what do “I” know? I’m just a pair of boobs."

--  Katy Waldman

 (Image from The Paris Review. Descartes thought the seat of the soul was in the pineal gland. He was so wrong.)