The Heavy Lightness of Not-Being

The mind is a beautiful thing. It defines who we are and decides who we will become. It is the only part of our existence which knows and understands. Tells us what to do, when to do and how to do it. The dense matter where our identity exists, packed with our life’s ambitions and goals and missions. So what happens when that mind starts to feel disconnected to the body it was meant to support?

Many seek the refuge of intoxicants to circumvent the emotions they do not need, stifle the beginning of imminent issues, to free themselves of the proverbial anchors that fix them to a spot they wish to evade. In an effort to seize the spontaneity they think has been rent apart from them, to become oh so reckless and free, they trick the very mind which is supposed to know. But the tables turn when the mind decides to wander off when we want to feel. When we become incapable of channelizing our emotions because our mind belies the presence of the body. When the senses feel but the mind declines to register. When a certain lightness pervades with the heaviness of its knowledge. When you realise that your mind is just out of your reach. When you become a passive consumer of your own life.

When the mind stops knowing and you know it.

Suddenly the breeze loses its sweetness as it collides with the body that can feel its presence but fails to solicit an emotion. A perpetual séance exits without our will or doing. The senses beseech the mind to accept and react. But the mind does not know anymore. The body then moves by virtue of habit and not will.

When the feeling of disconnect gets so disconcerting that it starts to gnaw at your nerves. That you become desperate for a means to force your mind to notice that you exist. When the only sense that can restore the connection is pain. Then you cut yourself.