Images are flying in my head, and out of my head. I don’t know where they come from or where they’re going to. They’re simply moving and grooving.
I like these explosions. They’re not a danger to me. They feel like messengers … if only I can crack the code. Or do I even want to do that?
Yesterday I was doing the Mutual Awakening Practice with a woman and it was my turn to talk. Suddenly I was intimate with my internal organs. They seemed squeezed together, irrationally arranged around bones and muscles. And then I was my dear organs:
“This is too small! What are we doing in here, so tight against each other? Hasn’t anybody heard of wide open spaces?”
As a yammering heart and liver rose up in protest, my stomach skin opened wide and internal friends burst out of their confine. They bounced in the air before me, jiggling in a raucous organ dance. Free at last! It was disco music and they were giving ‘er. My small intestine, normally a bundle of tube, had unfurled to its full 22-foot length and had transformed into a skipping rope, much to the delight of my spleen.
(I just reread this, and a smile comes easily. I wonder if I sound crazy. Oh well, I’m not.)
Today was another MAP practice. This time a chess board appeared in my mind. I don’t play but that doesn’t matter. The game appeared to be halfway through, with white pieces and black pieces dotting the squares in an unknown pattern. A voice yelled out in my brain “I don’t want to do this anymore!” Other pieces chimed in in agreement. “This game is over!” “Enough!”
And then each piece, whether white or black, leaned towards the centre of the board and nestled there together. There was peace.
I choose not to interpret. The visuals are stunning. Something inside me is churning out this stuff and I’m happy to be along for the ride. And tomorrow? That’s another day. What will appear unbidden as time unwinds? I’ll let you know.