I’d be sitting in my man chair, innocent and serene, when I’d suddenly have the strangest thought: How’d I get in here? That is, I appear to be inside my head, looking out at the world. Is that the way it really is?
I think about the Caramilk chocolate bar. The commercial asks us to reflect upon how the gooey caramel is inserted into the chocolate. That’s a good question. As for me, did some celestial big guy, with just the right apparatus, inject me inside this mass of bones, muscles, fat and blood vessels? I wonder.
How come I’m not inside Jody? Right now, I sitting beside our bed, watching her sleep. I don’t seem to be over there. It feels like there’s a distance from Bruce body to Jody body. But is there? Maybe there’s some way that I can throw my … my what? Consciousness? Spirit? … throw it inside Jody’s head so I can feel another inside looking at an outside.
How come I’m not inside this coffee cup, or the patio umbrella I see out the window? Even better, why aren’t I inside of Walt, our gracious walnut tree that welcomes visitors to the Kerr’s place? I’d like to be out there greeting the folks who walk their dogs past our home every day. Of course, I’d welcome the dogs too.
Actually, why does there have to be an inside and an outside? What would it feel like to be everywhere? But if I was everywhere, what exactly would I be looking at? Would I see a giant globe of faceted glass, every little piece revealing a different scene in the cosmos? Here’s a rugby match in South Africa. There’s a mom in the Gaza Strip, protecting her children. Here’s an old man with a cane, tottering along the path by Lost Lagoon in Vancouver. There’s kids playing dodge ball in the gym. Here’s an audience in an outdoor amphitheatre in Turkey, cheering for Elton John. There’s a young couple holding hands on the couch, wondering if it’s time for the first kiss. Here’s a few locals on a planet in the region of Alpha Centauri, playing cribbage. There’s a shooting star on the far edge of the known universe.
And here’s a fellow looking out from his inside over to his wife gently breathing, her eyes closed. I like this version pretty well. So whoever you are that did the spiritual surgery allowing me to be in here … thanks.