the Cognitive Heart

Posted on by Janine Bertolo

What would life look like if we paid more attention to the Cognitive Heart that lives in each of us?

Graphic images of a brain and heart painted by Janine Bertolo, with the text "musings on a Cognitive Heart in the Self-Centred Newsletter
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I attended a funeral service recently where the cause of death was described as ‘cognitive heart failure’.

The speaker hesitated on the words and (admirably in my culturally-conditioned perfectionist opinion) moved on.

My OCD brain tucked it away for chewing on after the service. Its first task to remember what the correct word could be.

True to nature of course, my brain woke me up in the middle of the night to tend to unfinished business. What did he mean by “cognitive heart’?

You’ve probably already surmised that the intended word was “congestive.” In fact, had I typed it instead of tucking it away for my brain to chew on later, autocorrect might have saved me some sleep.

As it was, I woke in the wee hours of the morning to muse about a cognitive heart.

The cognitive heart – it’s really a lovely concept, don’t you think?

I believe we all have one.

It’s the part of us that knows without words, without ‘executive function’, that knows from a primal and somatic place.

Our cognitive hearts may speak to us as a niggling that we just can’t put our finger on. Something we just can’t put words to. A niggling that tucks a misspoken word in a eulogy away for future reference. 

Could it be that my cognitive heart was awakened when my brain was honestly a little fidgety and distracted in the discomfort of having to sit still and quiet in an uncomfortable chair at a funeral for someone I didn’t know?

We tend to think of cognition as an activity centered in the brain. But in fact Oxford Languages defines “cognition’ as the mental action or process of acquiring knowledge and understanding through thought, experience, and the senses.

Thought, experience, AND the senses….

Tying in Somatics

This definition is helpful to me in describing something that is often difficult to describe: the concept of somatics and somatic practices, 

Here’s my take:

Our cellular DNA holds the map and history of generations that have gone before. We are composed of the same elements as the earth, sea, and sky. Every experience we have lived is imprinted on our cells.

Somatics is the practice of connecting to the wisdom and resources of the body. It is the practice of listening and learning. It allows us to move towards more authentic and aligned action. 

It’s not exclusively about intellectual thought and executive function – though of course the brain is part of the entire ecosystem of the body.

Somatic practices can be valuable in creating a coherent and integrated nervous system, allowing us to act in a more authentic, aligned, and peaceful way. 

It isn’t so much about avoiding ‘negative’ emotions or experiences. It’s more about creating the conditions for navigating a full spectrum of emotions and experiences from an expanded range of capacity, without dissociating or checking out.

Our organs, our cells, our limbs, our senses, have as much to offer in the way of wisdom as the brain. They are equals in an integrated somatic system.

I lean into the work and wisdom of Prentis Hemphill in exploring somatics and somatic practices. I am currently listening to their audiobook What It Takes To Heal and it feels like floating in a warm tub.

I also recommend this podcast episode with Prentis + Ijeoma Oluo.

It works

When my personal coach introduced somatic practices into our sessions, I noticed the change immediately without knowing intellectually what exactly had changed. I could feel healing happening, slowly, incrementally, potently, in a way that wasn’t accessible to me with more traditional talk therapy.

Somatics allowed me to connect to my body and its wisdom, in slow, doable steps that actually begins with remembering that I have a body that needs tending – that’s just how powerful my brain has become in managing my life. It tries to distract me from what’s going on below the neck as a means of protection, an overactive safety mechanism that I no longer need to survive. (Sorry brain, I love you but..)

At this stage, my body and my brain are in a tentative and new relationship of discovering interdependence and co-creation. I may be in my crone years, but this relationship is as new and exciting (and sometimes frightening) to me as I imagine it might be to a child.

It is reshaping my perspective and my relationships with myself, with others, and with my world.

(And, as an aside, it is reshaping my ideas about dusting off the Caucus of Crones to invite more participation, more vibrancy, more connection where connection is so desperately needed, but that is for another email. If you’re interested in knowing more before the next newsletter lands, drop me a note.)

What would life look like if we paid more attention to our cognitive hearts?

I’m curious to know what resonates with you, and invite your comments.

For now, I’m going back to the pool, back to the warm float, back to birds, to offer my brain a rest and cultivate a deeper relationship with my cognitive heart.

Sending you love from the unceded territory of the Algonquin Anishnaabe People on the banks of the Kitchi Zibi,

Janine

Ways to support me (and each other):

  1. (brain and heart illustrations created by Janine Bertolo with mineral watercolour paints on synthetic paper) ↩︎