Sometimes Six Degrees Is Too Far

Thinking about neuron structure and function. Not every neuron carries a thought—most are busy with other work, moving a hand or limb, reading a page. But borrow the structure for a moment.

Imagine a clean paint splat—one drop spreading outward in smooth curved arms of uneven length, pulling back to the center before reaching out again in a different direction. Not a star. Not a circle. Something organic and asymmetrical. More star. Splat. Milky white, slightly translucent. Individual neuron.

Each neuron hold a live topic or feeling as its own package. A center that contains, with irregular points reaching outward at inconsistent distances to connect with other topics, other feelings. The connections aren’t things in themselves; they just show that nothing is separate. One neuron takes the lead on the moment’s attention—ruminating, concentrating, obsessing. Then the synapse fires. A jolt. Arrive somewhere unexpected—sometimes somewhere deeper, sometimes what was underneath the first thing all along. Sometimes jot causes pivot. Sometimes after sitting awhile at the new location, the signal comes back. Bidirectional. Not because you’ve resolved anything. Because you haven’t.

Twelve topics ready. Make it a game, mix it up. Some brought to light. Some filed as leftovers wanting to be recycled in the tomorrow bin. Talk next. Not soon enough. Never enough time.

“You look kind of nervous. Do you have something on your mind?” Didn’t know at the time, but the answer was, “yes.”

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