Centering Oneself.

I remember when I was a kid going to school and the Humanities Teacher asked the class a Question.

Where do you find yourself inside you body?

It’s a good question to ask because it zeroes in on the type of person you are.

As I was the first one to answer I said I found myself centered in my chest.

Which I noticed brought the teachers eyebrows up.

The rest of the class said they found themselves in their heads.

Which brought my eyebrows up .lol

We look at man and see him as the same but yet here we find discrepancies which definitely make us all different.

The teacher later explained that American Indians find themselves in their chests, the white people in their Heads and the Chinese in their stomachs.

To this day I find this disclosure to be very interesting in more ways than one, the main thing being

is that I am not of American Indian heritage and yet I am closer to them, than to white people.

Through out the years, I often ask myself this same question just to see if I have changed.

I haven’t changed much.

Although I’ve become a lot more cerebral, My heart, my soul and my very being is still centered in my chest.

I cannot fathom living, without feeling the air swelling my lungs which in turn nourishes my brain so it can direct

the rest of my life.

This is funny since the brain needs to instruct the lungs to breath. Without breath, the brain can’t function.

The Chinese living in their stomachs, is still a mystery to me, since I never think about my stomach unless I am hungry.

But I am channeled to my chest the whole day long.

Even in my sleep I find listening to myself breathing or listening

to a baby or another person or even an animal breathing, to be very soothing .

I have not done any interviews with people to ask them questions on the subject and I still wonder what conclusions

I would end up at had they all given me truthful answers.

.

I think it would be too easy to say that white people are more cerebral and therefore find themselves in their heads as a result.

I was always a serious person who read a lot and I also enjoy food a lot but my stomach is not my center either.

So why am I centered like an American Indian and how many others are there like me out there?

Interesting.

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A man enters a barber shop and asks how long before he can have his hair cut. The barber looks round and replies, "Two hours." The man leaves the shop. The next day the man again enters the shop and asks how long before he can have a hair cut. The barber again replies, "Two hours." The man walks out.
The next day, again at the same time the same man enters and asks how long for a hair cut. Again the answer is two hours. He walks out and the barber asks his friend to follow him and see where he goes. Twenty minutes pass and the friend finally returns in stitches laughing. "Well," asks the barber, where does he go?"
The man replies, "Your house."

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In a Chicago Hospital , a gentleman had made several attempts to get into the men's restroom, but it had always been occupied.

A nurse noticed his predicament.

"Sir," she said, "You may use the ladies room if you promise not to touch any of the buttons on the wall."

He did what he needed to, and as he sat there he noticed the buttons he had promised not to touch. Each button was identified by letters: WW , WA , PP and a red one labelled ATR.
Who would know if he touched them? ;

He couldn't resist... He pushed WW... Warm water was sprayed gently upon his bottom. What a nice feeling, he thought. Men's restrooms don't have nice things like this.

Anticipating greater pleasure, he pushed the WA button. Warm air replaced the warm water, gently drying his underside.

When this stopped, he pushed the PP button. A large powder puff caressed his bottom adding a fragile scent of spring flower to this unbelievable pleasure. The ladies restroom was more than a restroom; it is tender loving pleasure.

When the powder puff completed its pleasure, he couldn't wait to push the ATR button which he knew would be supreme ecstasy.

Next thing he knew he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed, and a nurse was staring down at him..

"What happened?" he exclaimed. "The last thing I remember was pushing the ATR button."

"The button ATR is an Automatic Tampon Remover. Your penis is under your pillow."

MEN NEVER LISTEN