Anyone who knows me, knows that I am entirely unable to sustain communication, written or conversed, without a heavy dose of authenticity. Today, I am seeing the world through the blurry vision of my bodies' eyes. I went to work this morning feeling fine, but by the time I picked up Bodhi I developed a strong sensation of vertigo combined with a mental fog and shaky extremities. These things are only peripherally new to me. I have been surprised by my body many times, both wonderfully and painfully, in the past several years. I have come to believe that inhabiting a body is an interesting thing. It is simultaneously, marvelous and confusing. Having physical maladies serve two fold. In one respect, they can engender a preoccupation, and identification, with the body and its sufferings. While on the other hand, physical pain offers a rare, present moment glimpse at how little we actually know about the body itself. This sort of awareness creates a spaciousness around which the expansiveness of our nature gathers, waiting for a fissure in the solidity of our self perception through which to shine. And so I write, dizzy, shaky, pissed and grateful, I write.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I am entirely unable to sustain communication, written or conversed, without a heavy dose of authenticity. Today, I am seeing the world through the blurry vision of my bodies' eyes. I went to work this morning feeling fine, but by the time I picked up Bodhi I developed a strong sensation of vertigo combined with a mental fog and shaky extremities. These things are only peripherally new to me. I have been surprised by my body many times, both wonderfully and painfully, in the past several years. I have come to believe that inhabiting a body is an interesting thing. It is simultaneously, marvelous and confusing. Having physical maladies serve two fold. In one respect, they can engender a preoccupation, and identification, with the body and its sufferings. While on the other hand, physical pain offers a rare, present moment glimpse at how little we actually know about the body itself. This sort of awareness creates a spaciousness around which the expansiveness of our nature gathers, waiting for a fissure in the solidity of our self perception through which to shine. And so I write, dizzy, shaky, pissed and grateful, I write.
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