When we are disconnected from our own bodies, we lose our ability to feel deeply.
Unable to deeply sense ourselves, we find we are unable to truly sense others or the world around us either. Whether we are conscious of it or not, somewhere we experience ourselves as cut off from the life-sustaining flow of connection. We become orphans, adrift in life. Our hearts yearn to come home to love, yearn for a sense of belonging that we don't fully understand.
Burdened by the pain of our own isolation, it becomes easy to lash out. We find ourselves making moves to destroy the very things that would nourish and sustain us if we would only allow them to. Something in us can't quite bear the mirror they hold up to the emptiness we feel inside.
When unattended to for long enough, that sense of disconnection will always bear fruit in violence...whether to ourselves, or to others Everything from the subtlest of self-judgements to the war currently being waged on our environment: if we could truly feel the effects we were having on the totality of things we would be unable to sustain our stance of separateness.
Coming home to ourselves is inevitable in the long run. There is metaphysical gravity at work, drawing us inexorably towards the core of our own beings. Through surrendering to the descent into our own bodies, we begin to come alive in a visceral, felt way to the web of inter-connectedness that weaves its way through life...the vast, unseen fabric of reality. Our minds may reject this notion, question it, but we sense it nonetheless, that pulse of life thrumming tangibly through our veins. What, really, do we have to lose by trusting it?
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