Friday, October 31, 2025
Where are you “in” the body? You have a history. But does that locate you? Are your only identifiable traits a collection of words and a bag of moving skin? I’m not sure your record, or your body is enough to identify you as someone different. That’s history, but is it yours? Those are traits, but are they yours? What’s yours if there is no “you” in the body?
If something gets to you or gets under your skin, we’ve pinpointed you. But I wonder, can I get under your skin? Where then, exactly are you, in the skin? Hard to say. There is no you, in the individual sense, to be gotten. The only begotten son or daughter is not only, but every. If you think this honor belongs to an individual who roamed the middle east in sandals 2,000 years ago, you have another thing coming.
There isn’t an only begotten. Everything is begotten, except that which begets all. There is no individual to be gotten. If it’s all begotten, not made, I cannot die. And this, I must convince myself, is the source connection. Nothing can get to me when I cannot be untethered from the root link of all things seen and unseen.
Fear is a temporary amnesia that I’m locked in a bag of skin – jumping “out of” it every time something goes bump in the night.
I am not in the skin. I am not only the skin, but I am all of it and beyond nothing. Everywhere and nowhere. Kill the body if you must, but you’ll never get to me. Nobody’s home in the skin. I am all and nothing. Get comfortable in your so-called own skin, and you’ll see there is nobody “in there” to find, to get to, to remove, to stifle, or to destroy.