I may be this thing, 

you call human

I am composed of flesh

but my thoughts are deceiving:

Yoga class shed light on the spark inside me, today. I have had this spark since my first breath as a boy, and I felt it re-contextualized through this particular dialog, toward a new appreciation in my being. 

Hot yoga put my body and mind through the wringer. I felt twisted and moved in new directions like only twice before. The sheer amount of sweat still surprises me, with how much a class draws out of me, and how much I am capable of producing. Third time is a charm.

The teacher spoke of the electricity, the spark and the light, of the heart. We are vessels full of organs, and our heart beats because of electricity. We are small batteries. Humans are conduits of electricity. 

I have a spark in my chest. We all do. That spark connects us to the entire world, species and all. 

WHERE DID THAT SPARK COME FROM. As I type this, electricity is continuing my life. I am STILL typing because my heart is STILL beating. Reread this sentence over and over. 

There has to be a manufacturer of these human batteries. Are we the AA or AAA equivalent in body form, and where does the factory exist that makes these lithium I - AM - ON (earth) batteries?

And without the destruction or creation of energy, my heart just loses the lease on the spark, and it moves elsewhere. That also means it wasn’t created. Since the beginning of creation. So, at one point it had to be created, otherwise there would be no substance to define and create a rule of thermodynamics. 

So energy was created at some point, but our existence and manipulation of it cannot bend the nearly air-tight idea of energy creation and destruction. 

Where does my heartbeat go when it’s over? What is the path it takes and what is the next phase of its electrical and energetic life?