Sunday, January 13, 2013

Loving a Single Cell

More and more (and MORE) my work seems to be about becoming open to and aware of embodiment, as well as what seems to be a contradiction: the dissolving of boundaries that divide. How can we be both embodied and *not* embodied? How can we be One if we are separate beings? These questions  emerge in everything I'm doing lately. I am convinced of the Oneness; in fact, there are times lately when I don't even see separation (which is quite wonderful). But obviously our existence is a both/and. I get that. And I'm exploring it. And what's more, I think the answers are beginning to take shape within (and without) me.

This morning the simple idea of beginning at the closest point, of loving a single cell with the intention to establish connection, is figural for me. A single cell, anywhere in your body. Microscopic--so small that it almost doesn't believe in itself--and one tiny player in a vast universe of cells, some with much more important functions, but all needed to support your life in this exact moment.

If you're game and curious about this too, take a moment to find that little cell right now. In your foot, your calf, your ankle, your heart, your lungs. Maybe it's in that ache you've been feeling in your lower back. Or maybe it's the place behind your left ear that itches just now. Stop and take a deep breath and listen to your body. Invite a cell to let you know it wants to be the one.

When the cell has made itself known, smile at it. Just smile. Let your eyes smile. Let your hands relax. Feel your heart warm. When you feel ready, thank that cell for its part in supporting your universe. Smile as you say it. Thank it for working in harmony with all the other cells to do what needs to be done. Thank it for giving you the opportunity to reflect on spirit-in-matter: your own. Bless it and wish it well. Express your desire and intention (if that's true for you) to support it and be open to learning more about it and the cells with whom it serves.

Let a conversation emerge naturally. This is you loving you, remember. Perhaps you will feel things like, "I want to do a better job of nourishing this cell," or "I really haven't been paying attention to how much I'm straining my back lately." All this feedback is good feedback, helping you discover what current blocks you have to your own conscious loving of your cells.

When the words stop flowing for you, sit in silence and breathe gently. Listen. Perhaps this cell has a word or image for you, too. Let your mind and heart be open to whatever you receive. When you do sense something, accept it gladly, as you would a gift, and make an internal choice to act on the body knowing you receive.

When you feel a sense of peace and completion, prepare to say goodbye and thanks to the cell. Perhaps you'll meet again, but perhaps not--cells don't live very long, you know. Be sure your endings are full of thanks and gratitude, and include yourself in that gratitude, for having opened to the possibility and promise of loving a single cell. You're different now, and your cells are different now. And that is the beginning of all possibility. :)