Finding the Edges of Me

 Today, I felt my body.

And I suppose I might need some sort of “Not R Rated” posting or disclaimer here, but hopefully, the blog title will help alleviate any concern.

I am sitting here, typing, and of course, I can feel the keys under my fingers, and the rough design of the couch fabric under my legs. I can feel the coolth on the tip of my nose because the AC is running, and I can feel my heart beating. All the usual body things I expect a person feels. The rise and fall of my chest, the relief of breathing; the slight pain of the toes falling asleep. Again.

But I can also, from the inside, (God I hope this makes sense) feel my body.

I can feel the shape of my face, newly slender from my dance with the Corona Virus.

I can feel the circumference of my waist and  I can feel the skin at the front of my chest and the back of, well, my back.

I can feel the outer edges of my arms and the way the skin droops, just a little, soft as leather.

I can feel under my chin, and the back of my neck and where the hair starts at the base of the skull.

I feel all this from the inside, like the center of the circle.

And of course, I wonder, is this real?

 

Do athletes feel it like this? Know their edges, and all the molecules that make up the space they occupy and the air around them? Is this how they manipulate the body and know what it can really do?

Do dancers and skaters feel like this? Know where they end and their partner begins and how much room there is for each little manuever?

Do Yogi masters feel this? Feel not only where the body is, inside and out, but how much further it can go… into an infinity of energy particles, like a George Sands painting?

Or is this just a strange, Lila side effect of having been sick and bound and totally focused on what each breath is doing for my body at the moment?

I hope this is more than a euphoric awareness. I hope I can maintain this feeling. I think that this is what I used to eat for… not just the emotional fulfillment , but to feel the edges of myself. To know how much space I really take up. To know that there is “other” around me.

Because when you are aware of your space—when I am aware of my space, I have to be aware of the space around me too. I become a differentiated part. Which means I am a Part. A part of a whole. I am not alone.

I like the phrase, I am a shining thread in the tapestry of the Universe.

And today, I can feel the edges of that thread. Which means, I can feel the edges of other threads. Which means, really, I can feel the flow of the Whole.

Today I can feel my body. And it is glorious.