Not that our attraction to logic denies emotion, but hanging out exclusively in our left-brain processes will create some distance in relationships (no need to have a deep conversation when the priority is clearly to complete a manuscript).if you read between the lines
You will find nothing there...
Only the precision
The skeleton of truth
I do not dabble in emotion...
Certainly the most waggishly comical depiction of this need for personal space confronts us in W.H. Auden's I Have No Gun But I Can Spit (the thirty inches taken from social science studies):
Karl Shapiro offered a brilliant metaphor for the pleasures of the mind in The Sickness of Adam:Some thirty inches from my nose
The frontier of my Person goes...
Beware of rudely crossing it:
I have no gun, but I can spit.
But even in such an intellectual garden we long for intimacy, which Shapiro's Adam seemed to know in his bones:...He began to walk
Slowly, like one accustomed to be alone.
He found himself lost in the field of talk;
Thinking became a garden of its own...
To draw closer to others, we must move past our caution. Shapiro took us further into Adam's desire and fear in "The Recognition of Eve:"...God approached him in the cool of day
And said, "This sickness in your skeleton
Is longing. I will remove it from your clay"...
...when she spoke the first word (it was thou)We can expand, step out of our narrow confines, connect with others and with our intrinsic nature. Naomi Replansky's luminous poem "Housing Shortage" unfolds the internal experience of this transformational shift:
He was terror-stricken, but she raised her hand
And touched his wound where it was fading now...
Adam could see her wandering through the wood...
And there he followed shyly to observe.
She was already turning beautiful.
I tried to live small.
I took a narrow bed...
Given inches, I take yards,
Taking yards, dream of miles,
And a landscape, unbounded
And vast in abandon.