Friday, April 16, 2010


We don't identify with our cars--at least most of us don't. Oh, we may identify with driving a certain model of car. "I drive a Prius." Already that speaks volumes about my personality. My sister dries a Jaguar, which tells you about her.

Station wagon, van, mini-Cooper, truck. Vokswagen, Chevy, BMW. But while we are driving our alter-egos on the road, we don't mistake our car for our self. The car does our bidding--faster, slower, turning, right, turning left, passing, stopping.

What if we felt the same way about the vehicles we seem to inhabit--our bodies? What if we looked out the windows of our body--our 2 eyes--and saw? Simply saw? Simply looked at the landscape passing by and realized that we are just a passenger in this body-vehicle? It affords me great mobility, but the body is not what i am, and certainly not who i am.

How silly to say, "I am my Prius." "I am my pick-up truck." Perhaps it's equally foolish to identify with our bodies--thin or fat, big or small, well or sick.

What if the body is simply a vehicle.

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