Blog - MuscleHeart

       A rare Saturday post, but this book I'm reading, The Icarus Deception, inspired me to get this out sooner rather than later.
       I wrote a poem this week, before I started reading the book. After I started reading, I realized that my poem was speaking to the same dynamic that the book was, but coming at it through a different wormhole, and on a deeper, more intrapersonal level. Pre-emptive synergistic harmony of ideas.
       The video is amazing, and, I firmly believe, the new paradigm for our economy moving forward.

Sword Of Self

Be bold and strike forth
Your sword of self cutting through the fog
Risk showing who you are
Risk being who you are
And do battle with hiding

You will not find yourself unless you seek
That precious being underneath all the armor
For the world does not need another armed soldier
But will always yearn for a naked warrior

- Clint Piatelli

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Friday

Feb012013

Gym eMotion

Friday, February 1, 2013 at 7:18AM

       Working out is a way of life for some of us. We actually miss the sweat, strain, and minor pain of pushing our bodies past every day use. When I’m in a groove I rarely miss a day of exquisite physical excursion. Habit becomes routine. Routine becomes lifestyle. Lifestyle becomes A Way Of Life.
       Besides the great rush that exercise gives me, I sometimes experience another phenomenon while exercising. I sometimes become very emotional.
       When we exercise, things are shaking and moving and changing within us physiologically. We’re increasing our heart rate, pumping more blood through our body, changing oxygen levels, blood pressure, and a host of other biological mechanizations.
       Many of us listen to music during exercise. Music can move us. When we are moved, just like when we exercise, there are physiological changes happening inside us. Thus, with both music and exercise, our brain and body chemistry are altered. Combine the two, and the changes are even more profound.
       The double whammy of exercise and music thus have the capacity to stir my insides to a feverish pitch.
       There are times when I’m working out where, irrespective of the amount of weight I’m lifting, I feel incredibly powerful, centered, full of life, completely alive, and, frankly, very fuckin’ cool.
       Other emotions well up sometimes, from deep within me, to right under my skin, to right behind my eyes. A song will remind me of someone in my life who is no longer here. Or I will think of someone I miss very much. Maybe a particular event comes to mind. When any of that happens whilst working out, tears well up and I feel like I could just burst.
       Crying in the gym isn’t something I really want to do. So I grab my towel, cover my face with it, rub away some sweat, and simultaneously quickly cry a few tears. Anybody who happens to be looking at me long enough will see that, when I pull the towel from my face, my eyes are a little redder and shinier than they were just a few seconds ago.
       My close friend Stanley died in a plane crash about a year and a half ago. We had our differencess, and sometimes we fought like brothers. But we loved each other very much. He used to say to me “Clint, you’re the brother I never had”. I miss him. There’s a song that powerfully reminds me of him; The Wreck Of THe Edmund Fitzgerald, by Gordon Lightfoot.
       One warm late summer Saturday night, I was over Stanley’s house with a few girls. Fresh out of his waterfront hot tub, we put on some music. Stanley chose a tape that had the Gordon Lightfoot song on it. I turned to him and said “Dude! I love this song!” He replied “Me too!” We thunderously high-fived each other and continued our love fest review of the song.
       I knew all the words. And there are a lot of words. I was singing them aloud, every word of every verse, throwing in punctuations of drum hits, guitar notes, and other nuances. Stanley was amazed. He repeated, over and over again, like Stanley often did, “I can’t believe you know every word of this song!”. Stanley knew some, but hardly all. He was singing along with me as best he could, often looking at me and repeating what I sang a split second later, like a delayed echo effect through a PA system. We were both acting out the song as well, like a couple of kids. It was one of the funnest moments of my life with Stanley, and that’s saying a mouthful. Because we had a lot of fun moments together. A lot. Some of this spontaneous performance art was even captured on video.
       The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald is on a few of my workout mixes on my iPod. A strange selection, you may think, but it works for me. You should see some of the other choices in music that I work out to. Anyway, when that song comes on whilst working out, it inevitably makes me think of that night. And of Stanley. And how I’ll never have another moment like that with him, ever again.
       A sense of loss and sadness overcomes me a like a giant wave. When I experience those moments outside the gym, I’m sometimes able to ride them out without an outward expression. Not because I don’t want to emote, but because I don’t need to. But in the gym, I have much more trouble controlling that wave of emotion. Because of the augmented physiological changes going on inside because of the combination of music and exercise, the emotions are even stronger. At some point, I just can’t hold it in, and it becomes a “Towel To The Face” moment. And it usually happens more than once.
       Far from embarrassed about this, I don't mind it at all. There are many silver linings in this cloud. These silver linings are reminders of the depth and power of my emotional engine, and how that engine propels me to experience a fuller, richer, deeper, more meaningful life. They remind me that I’m connected to my heart, and that that wasn’t always the case. They remind me of how vitally important love is to me. And they remind me of my friend Stanley, how much we loved one another, and how much fun we had together.
       I’ll pay the price of some tears and a towel to my face for all of that, every time. No matter where I am. Or what I’m doing.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights reserved.

Clinterview: Man Vs. Emotion (part 6)

Thursday, January 31, 2013 at 8:13AM

A quickie about what men learn from a young age what their sexual objective is.

Do You Believe In Magic

Tuesday, January 29, 2013 at 8:08AM

       Early this morning, I awoke from an absolutely amazing dream.
       In the dream, I was hearing and singing a song. The song however, was a hugely popular one from the waking world, with the melody and the lyrics precisely in tact. This is incredibly rare in the dream state. Songs heard in dreams almost always morph into other sounds. And they rarely sound exactly the same in the dream state as they do in the awake state.
       The song I heard has thus been driven far into my subconscious. And that’s no surprise. Because it’s one of those songs that I know reaches something deep and mystical inside of me. It’s one of those songs I find so beautiful that it makes me ball like a kid at Christmas who just got THE toy.
       The title and message of the song, “Do You Believe In Magic”, are perfectly reflective of my experience of it. This is the verse, word for word, note for note, that I heard in my dream....

“If you believe in magic
Come along with me
We'll dance until morning 'til there's just you and me
And maybe, if the music is right
I'll meet you tomorrow, so late at night
And we'll go dancing,
BABY THEN YOU’LL SEE
HOW THE MAGIC’S IN THE MUSIC AND THE MUSIC’S IN ME”

       Those who know and love me, know that, indeed, The Music and The Magic Are In Me. In fact, The Magic is In Us All. Imagine how our lives would be if we all believed that, accessed that Magic, and constantly shared our Magic with each other. Imagine how our planet would be if we shared our Magic with the world.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved