Thursday, July 8, 2010

This Shell

In this shell made of flesh and bone, my self-awareness is convoluted, every sensation and perception made through the veil of the flesh is suspect and subjective. "Real" feelings and expressions require exclusive in and out filtration via nerve endings and vocal chords and synaptic patterns. The Body is the Doorman of the Soul.

But I must remember that this is by design, this was done on purpose. We are wrapped in this shroud, which clouds a senseful experience, for what is likely a very good reason. I can only guess, but I'm sure it has something to do with protection of that Divine Gift which makes us unique beings. It certainly is meant as an interface, both through which to interact in this physical, material world and with each other. How else would we find any means of expression, either in or out, without these senses? To make a crude comparison, even the most powerful computer is useless without a monitor and keyboard.

I must also remember that this body and its limited duration is a gift: a gift which goes wasted and unappreciated by lamenting its limitations. We are simple and fragile creatures, yes, but capable of great civilization, art, language, culture, philosophy, and wonder, and we are learning through science that, simple and fragile though we may be, we are also fascinating and complex, so much so that we are beyond our own understanding--not just us as a species, but the whole world and universe that surrounds us.

We are given only a little while to discover ourselves, our world, and each other. Here's to hoping that I, and those around me, in my physical and spiritual worlds, are able to discover and share our gifts before our time is over, together.

(A bit esoteric, I know, but it was in there, and it had to come out. Do with it what you will.)

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