Or am I an artist of consciouness, imagining, creating works of genius, when I imagine beams of subtle, gentle, comforting, energy, caressing my body at the direction of my whims? Stroking up my leg, feeling the skin, teasing to my root chakra? Tickling my pleasures?
Is it delusion to call out into the ether, for others to share? To want, and to desire to give.
Funny thoughts on a lazy Saturday morning, sitting on a couch wearing loose flannel, listening to music.
Thoughts about my body. And who I will be with out it someday. Some day that sometimes seems too soon. A body is a wonderful amplifier of all the sensations that originate in the imaginings of various consciousnesses, interplay between points of discreet life, in the soup of life as an un-individuated whole.
I don't think I know how to function without body. I don't know if I have the courage to try. I am so attached to this paradigm, living through the intermediary of material tools. I like the game, having a body, the privacy it gives me as consciousness, the barriers of it. You cant see me unless I choose. Just the skin I hide in.
But then maybe you can see me in these words.
And play with what your eyes can not see, but you know is there.
http://www.biomindsuperpowers.com/ (my apologies to Ingo for ripping off his art above) His book "Psychic Sexuality" is a must read for anyone exploring consciousness, human existence, and how spirit interacts with body.
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