Yin-yang

Yin-yang is the Maoist symbol for two opposing but inseparable forces.

We think of ourselves as 'single' persons when we are actually always a 'double': the yin and yang. There is always a +ve voice in our head and another that urges us on toward the -ve. There is always a battle between the 'yes' and the 'no' in our heart and mind. When the heart gives you the go-ahead but the mind struggles to fit in 'logic' somewhere, fix in 'rationality'.

If you have ever had conversations running in your mind, you know there are two persons, two parts of you, present within a single anatomical shell. There is always an argument going on, always the black versus the white. A part of you urging you to take the step, be bold and say it, do it, act it while the other part holds you back, asks you to dip that toe in the pond before you jump right into it. In the meantime is confusion and tension as the tussle goes on. Sometimes this is momentary but on days when you would rather shut everything out than face anything, the struggle becomes red-hot active. There is so much running through your mind at once that all 'you' do is look around. Maybe put on music to silence the arguing yin and yang, to drown out the voices. Sometimes you succeed too. But it's not always guaranteed.

There is a voice saying that red is the best option: bold, sharp, bright.

There is that other voice saying pink is the better thing: softer, quieter, more subdued.

There is constant war between the two parts. One wants you to slap the person making you angry right away and make your point while the other tries to put a lid on the boiling pot. One asks you to smile when you would rather give someone a snarl. One makes you want to jump up and enjoy and have fun while the other is constantly reminding you that the moment is not permanent. That once it is over, it is back to the same old state.

This two sided version of ourselves is the reason sadness always accompanies happiness and there are occasions when the line between the two is blurred and they merge together.

Sometimes you are looking directly into someone's eyes and the voice makes you forget you shouldn't. The other voice jumps up to caution you but it's too late, the damage is done. The yin has momentarily triumphed yang. This is not supposed to happen. Yin and yang are inseparable, they totally fit in.

But when one trumps the other, that is the start of magic. Pure magic.

The start of mini apocalypses in your head.

The start of stanzas and stories and tales that go down in history.