The nucleus of me, is my core. It is a ball of fire and heat that expands and contracts like a bubbling, throbbing heart and its beat. Or a miniature sun, if you will.
It’s rhythm knows not what it depends on, it just knows. like the roots of trees know when to stretch, expand and burst forth, or the buds of flora know when to open.
The first crack and split of ice in the instant of liquid warmth, doesn’t know, yet knows. If you understand the contradiction, you have met your core before.
When the pulsation of my core is faint and slippery thin, suffocating black smoke billows up and up, and chokes and clogs me; the radiant live fire becomes a spluttering glow of fading embers.
I scan, and immediately outside of the core I find emotions. Before their physicality they are colours and waves, reds, oranges and all the shades of grey.
They are sounds, screams, cries, crazed laughter, moans and sighs.
They are scents of blood iron, damp skin and earth.
They taste of salty tears.
Physically they are shallow breaths and grimaces, and feel like heavy feathers.
Immediately outside of my emotions I find organs, bone, blood, muscle and skin. I feel intestines clogging, liver and kidneys drowning, lungs desperate to be fat again, a heart holding it all together, huffing and puffing in the ongoing marathon.
Skin tired, hair falling, nails brittle…
My eyes open. I stand before a mirror.
I shrink like Alice in the looking glass, but into the size of nothingness (nothingness fits everywhere) and I fly into the windows of my pupils, or perhaps my soul, but which me am I? The illusion in the mirror or the ‘real’ me?
I see a spark as I fly, where is it coming from? I travel backwards or forwards, through the retina, into my brain, down my throat, swishing through the warmth of my veins, my life water.
I stop somewhere, cavernous, murky and shadow-ridden, and there I step on it before I see it. A small orb of dying fire, glowing, the size of a small hot coal.
I only feel the pain after I’ve looked down and picked it up. The heat sears and sizzles the skin of my hands and I throw it up into the air like a coin being tossed. Each time it falls I catch it again only to throw it back up to avoid the pain. I see time slow down, everything slows, and as the orb hovers above my head like a lazy dragonfly, I know and yet am not aware, of what I must do.
I throw my head back and gaze with love and wonder at the orb, open my mouth, and let time speed back up.
The orb lets go of the pull of slowed time and regains gravity, hurtling straight into my mouth.
My eyes widen just before the heat and all the emotions under the sky explode from within my body, the flames reaching out and growing, dissolving the me that is the size of nothingness, into myself. The me the size of nothingness becomes the growing orb, and the murkiness lights up into blinding brightness. The shadows sleep.
Once again the orbs heat rises, it’s fire licks and glistens, and it pulsates with the flow of life.
I am filled with glowing life. I stand once again looking in the mirror, I breathe deeply and fill my lungs, my body works as it should, and looking back at me is a knowing smile. That me in the reflection is in me, and I am in the reflection, deeply enmeshed in my centre, unafraid to feel the burn, to feel the emotions and to dig deep into the nucleus of me, my core.