Behind the scenes, my obsession these past few years has been feeling more.

I had noticed during the pandemic, that most of the left side of my body had become numb and there were other parts that were inaccessible when I tried to put my attention on them.

The parts that I could feel, where wrought with tension.

Each breath was empty of its full promise and left a gaping craving for more air.

As my throat and chest, choked me, from the inside.

And sometimes I could feel nothing.

My awareness outside my body, floating and tilted above the right side of my head.

Dissociated anhedonia.

Bumping into things, separate from my emotions and all pain.

I slept better at those times.

I experienced all of this like a diligent scientist of the body.

Curiously, examining the threads of sensation and numbness and the paths they lead.

At first my brain wanted to make the decisions. Lead the charge of healing.

But that failed, eventually.

I’ve gotten far, far better at listening and meeting the bodies weaving way.

Let’s play here and then here.

Meeting the thresholds between feeling and emptiness at the opening moment.

Instead of barging in.

I’ve spent hours upon hours.

Engrossed and enthralled in this game. 

Each expansion and contraction a fascinating insight to be gleaned.

I’ve played for my life, or aliveness in this way.

Above all else.

It’s taken priority.

Which the part of me hunting status and validation has not enjoyed.

As there are no accolades.

Or credentials to be earned.

And yet, deliciousness is emerging.

Painful and throbby, tingling and full.

Pressure and opening.

More weightyness.

Some burning.

Deeper, easeful breaths.

My body is slowly blooming. 

Tendrils shooting in their innate knowing.

What a thrill.