When I was a baby, I stretched out my tiny hand, placed my palm away in front of my baby face, and smiled in wonder. “This hand is mine,” I must have thought, “yet it is out there, not here. What is going on? I think of moving the fingers of this hand and the fingers move. I am controlling it. Yet here I am and there is the hand; all the way out there, in front of my face. Are we one and the same?”
As I grew up I quickly learned to own my body, organs, limbs and all. I knew that the body is part of “me” and everything else around is separate: me vs. other people, me vs. the environment. Soon after, I started, much like my peers, to want to own what is around me. Yet, whatever I purchased or obtain by other means, was still not “me”. What is “me”? I may have occasionally wondered. If I lose a limb, what have I lost? A fragment of myself or is it just a body part? Where does one end and the other begin?
For most of us, that sense of separation remains – “me”, which includes my consciousness and my body, and then there is the rest of the world; everything else. Yet, for some of us, a path may open, and through this altered perspective we may realize that I am not what I thought myself to be. I am not the body, even if the body feels like part of me. And because “I” am not ending where the body ends, I can be part of a much larger whole.
It is somewhat like a drop of water in the ocean. If we trap that drop of water and coat it in thin sealant, just before it hits the open seas, it may be perceived as separate from the whole. Remove the coating, and the drop, while still singular, becomes an integral part that makes the whole.
And thus, some days, I reach out with my hand, look at it in wonder and command the fingers to move. And, lo and behold, the limbs move! It is like magic.
Learned from: meditation