makin' it real
02-10-2010, 02:39 AM
I had a class tonight that inspired me, and thought I'd share some musings with you. I (we?) often get caught up in defining myself as my body. Is this part growing enough, has that part grown too much, and “Why the heck is that growing there?!?!” Should I lose weight, what should I eat, what should I wear? But then I remember I am not my body. I have a body. That’s when the existential confusion comes in.
I have sensations, but I am not my sensations.
I have thoughts, but I am not my thoughts.
I have emotions, but I am not my emotions.
Who am I?
(If anyone has the answer to this, could they please call BR-459 and let me know? I seem to be having an identity crisis!)
Who is this I who is having all these experiences? And what is the role of my body? If, as I suspect, the observing “I” is some truer part of myself, does identifying with issues of my body (like, oh, say, what sex do I want to express right now? Just as a fer instance) get in the way of me experiencing more clearly that truer part of myself?
More clearly, does devoting so much attention to my body, let alone the clothes that adorn it, take me away from the Divine, as some traditional Christian teachings suggest? Or can it lead me into deeper connection with my true self, and then by extension into greater connection with the Divine as numerous other spiritual traditions suggest. I started out this life being indoctrinated in the Methodist Church, gave it up, then studied a couple years to possibly enter the priesthood, but have expanded my vision of the possible a bit since then.
I experience a tension between immersing myself in the sensual, and recognizing the illusory nature of the physical world. Even with that, I found inspiration tonight in the line from Mary Oliver that goes, “You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” I suspect our bodies contain wisdom our minds know not of, (Hey, I kinda like that!) and that if we listen to the wisdom of our bodies, we might enter into communication with the greater Wisdom behind all life.
But that’s just my thoughts. What do you think? What are your experiences?
Makin’ it real
p.s. I just read Suzanne's post titled "My jeans were too tight...," and she seems to be saying something similar! Yippee! Our bodies may know better than us why we do what we do!
(Wandering down hall, muttering to self: "Trust your body, trust your body, trust your body...")
__________________________________________________ ___________
Here’s the full poem from Mary Oliver. I think it’s lovely, and thought you might enjoy it too.
“Wild Geese”
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
I have sensations, but I am not my sensations.
I have thoughts, but I am not my thoughts.
I have emotions, but I am not my emotions.
Who am I?
(If anyone has the answer to this, could they please call BR-459 and let me know? I seem to be having an identity crisis!)
Who is this I who is having all these experiences? And what is the role of my body? If, as I suspect, the observing “I” is some truer part of myself, does identifying with issues of my body (like, oh, say, what sex do I want to express right now? Just as a fer instance) get in the way of me experiencing more clearly that truer part of myself?
More clearly, does devoting so much attention to my body, let alone the clothes that adorn it, take me away from the Divine, as some traditional Christian teachings suggest? Or can it lead me into deeper connection with my true self, and then by extension into greater connection with the Divine as numerous other spiritual traditions suggest. I started out this life being indoctrinated in the Methodist Church, gave it up, then studied a couple years to possibly enter the priesthood, but have expanded my vision of the possible a bit since then.
I experience a tension between immersing myself in the sensual, and recognizing the illusory nature of the physical world. Even with that, I found inspiration tonight in the line from Mary Oliver that goes, “You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” I suspect our bodies contain wisdom our minds know not of, (Hey, I kinda like that!) and that if we listen to the wisdom of our bodies, we might enter into communication with the greater Wisdom behind all life.
But that’s just my thoughts. What do you think? What are your experiences?
Makin’ it real
p.s. I just read Suzanne's post titled "My jeans were too tight...," and she seems to be saying something similar! Yippee! Our bodies may know better than us why we do what we do!
(Wandering down hall, muttering to self: "Trust your body, trust your body, trust your body...")
__________________________________________________ ___________
Here’s the full poem from Mary Oliver. I think it’s lovely, and thought you might enjoy it too.
“Wild Geese”
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.