My body and I have a relationship in which we tolerate one another.
My mind is learning to trust my body and to allow it a voice. Although, who am I kidding, mostly my mind drags it around and puts it through things it doesn’t really want to do. Like drinking French Martinis. And going to the gym.
There are somethings it does really like to do. Like eating nachos, a well timed cake, swimming, and anything to do with my lover touching it. It loves my lovers body more than anything in the world.
However, it’s fair to say my body plays second fiddle to my dominant mind. I know this, and to be honest there’s a truce in play. Mostly, my body is quite happy to go with the flow if the mind needs something. It’s cat (lazy and purring) and dog (bouncing and yappy).
My body is about to do something amazing. It’s going to manufacture a person out of stuff put in at the top. Building blocks to a schema passed down over millions of years through DNA. In fact, I am going to actually make something, so now I am the last vestiges of Australian manufacturing walking around in human form.
The best part is my body is really thrilled about the whole thing. This is it’s last chance to really shine; take centre-stage; it’s what it was made for! I know its stupidly happy because I have tingles all over me, and feelings in my lower limbs I haven’t felt before. I’ve been waiting to feel my lower Dan Tien, and now it’s filling. Like swirls of energy and a heaviness.
And guess what, it’s favourite thing in the world – that other body it loves – is half of what it gets to grow! It knows already that it’s in there. In fact, it told my mind by showing me now this body can do some of the cool stuff that the other body can do… like eye auras. I expect I have all kinds of other cool tricks in store as the energy from the other body fills me.
This is my chance to learn something. To give myself what i need and when. And to allow the corporeal me to be in charge.
I am afraid. But I’m ok with any outcome it comes up with. If it decides halfway through that the work in progress isn’t quite right and it wants to start again, then ok.
If it gets it right from the start and makes a little human, then I will let it eject it from my body however it likes. (I’m not sure that last statement is true yet).
For me, every symptom is a something to notice. Like I’m a hippy or some thing. If my expanding waistline wants to eat grass or torn strips of newspaper or rejects potatoes or green beans, then it gets its wish.
Here goes everything.
Because in my mind… fucked if I know what to do next.