If It Were Boundless

I have been away a long time, three months. Many of those weeks I have been physically away, away from my home base. But This has never been far from my mind. Despite my physical distance, I come back to Here in my mind and remember, fondly. This has not been forgotten, You have not been forgotten.

I go to a class to learn how to move again, to create freedom from pain. We lie on the floor with our eyes closed, flat on our backs and are asked to feel into our bodies, how they contact the floor, as a base to compare later. Constant physical pain in my upper back has never been far from my mind. But despite that pain, I come back to the rest of my body and remember how it feels. It has been forgotten, I have been forgotten.

If I don’t keep You close, in my mind, then does that mean You are forgotten? In knowing You, I am able to know parts of Me. But what if I were to let you go? Would parts of me be forgotten? Or would I be free, free to wander and explore without boundaries and ties? Would I become so light that I would float up into the air and ride the breeze?

Later in class, after some exercises, we are asked again to feel into our bodies and consider what feels different. Eyes closed, I check into the different parts, traveling like a ghost from place to place. But it is like a gathering storm in a dream that turns…, turns what? Bad? Scary? I don’t know. My eyes fly open and I am staring at the white ceiling in the classroom.  Poof! The dream dissipates into wherever it had come from, before the dream turns…, because I know the word now, Sad. A sadness so boundless that I might be stretched across every whispering corner of the universe.

Come, take back from me what is yours.