And yet, is the body prisoner
Posted: January 4th, 2008, 12:40 am
I have just posted this item at The Gazebo on The Zoo Fence. I am putting it here, too, in the hope that others may want to join in the consideration of this idea.
I have recently finished re-reading ACIM's Text. This is the fifth time I have read the book since we first purchased the set thirty years ago, and it is still good.
But something in the last few pages of the book jumped out at me, something I want to consider a little bit in this space.
Here's the passage from the book:
Yet, is the body prisoner, not the mind. The body thinks no thoughts. It has no power to learn, to pardon, nor enslave. It gives no orders that the mind need serve, nor sets conditions that it must obey. … It sickens at the bidding of the mind … And so the body, where no learning can occur, could never change unless the mind preferred that the body change in its appearance, to suit the purpose given by the mind.
Now, of course, I do not take the idea of bodily imprisonment literally, nor do I suppose it is intended to be taken literally; but all the same, it interests me, and here's why. The image for me has always been that it is the mind, not the body, which is "imprisoned" (although I don't think I would have used the word imprisoned).
Thus, as I had always considered it, it is the mind that is imprisoned (captured, caught, enclosed in, limited by, whatever) in the body. But here, it is the body which is imprisoned. By the mind. The mind has taken, and is holding, the body prisoner. As a habitation, I suppose.
That is an intriguing thought.
It certainly is consistent with the relationship we seem to have with the body.
The body does for us very nearly everything we ask of it.
But how do we treat the body? How many of the "physical" things we do are actions or activities that are pleasing to the mind without any real consideration of whether or not they are appropriate, much less pleasing, to the body. Drinking alcohol, smoking tobacco, eating garbage like fast food and sugar candy, not getting enough exercise or sleep, participating in dangerous sports, fighting wars, and so on.
UG suggests that the body, the organism, has its own intelligence. And that makes sense to me. But if we accept that, why do we not respect it?
We think of the body as my body, and we treat it accordingly, as if it were a possession. What authority do we have for doing that?
This passage from ACIM's Text has prompted me to undertake a new practice: Consciously thanking this body for its use as a residence; recognizing its own legitimate existence; and releasing any sense of my having imprisoned or in any other way exercised authority over it.
Doing so has generated a curious, unexpected reaction. I feel release. I feel lighter, more comfortable, less fettered.
What's the old saying about the warden being as imprisoned as the prisoner?
Of course, if it is all an illusion, what difference does it make? But, then, it is not really an illusion as long as it seems real. That is, to argue that it is an illusion is a cop out, until it really is seen and felt and known to be an illusion. There's a Catch 22 in there, but I think it is necessary and unavoidable, otherwise we (1) fool ourselves and (2) somehow take advantage of ... well, I'm not sure exactly of what, but something.
Anyway, it is making for some interesting thoughts.
I have recently finished re-reading ACIM's Text. This is the fifth time I have read the book since we first purchased the set thirty years ago, and it is still good.
But something in the last few pages of the book jumped out at me, something I want to consider a little bit in this space.
Here's the passage from the book:
Yet, is the body prisoner, not the mind. The body thinks no thoughts. It has no power to learn, to pardon, nor enslave. It gives no orders that the mind need serve, nor sets conditions that it must obey. … It sickens at the bidding of the mind … And so the body, where no learning can occur, could never change unless the mind preferred that the body change in its appearance, to suit the purpose given by the mind.
Now, of course, I do not take the idea of bodily imprisonment literally, nor do I suppose it is intended to be taken literally; but all the same, it interests me, and here's why. The image for me has always been that it is the mind, not the body, which is "imprisoned" (although I don't think I would have used the word imprisoned).
Thus, as I had always considered it, it is the mind that is imprisoned (captured, caught, enclosed in, limited by, whatever) in the body. But here, it is the body which is imprisoned. By the mind. The mind has taken, and is holding, the body prisoner. As a habitation, I suppose.
That is an intriguing thought.
It certainly is consistent with the relationship we seem to have with the body.
The body does for us very nearly everything we ask of it.
But how do we treat the body? How many of the "physical" things we do are actions or activities that are pleasing to the mind without any real consideration of whether or not they are appropriate, much less pleasing, to the body. Drinking alcohol, smoking tobacco, eating garbage like fast food and sugar candy, not getting enough exercise or sleep, participating in dangerous sports, fighting wars, and so on.
UG suggests that the body, the organism, has its own intelligence. And that makes sense to me. But if we accept that, why do we not respect it?
We think of the body as my body, and we treat it accordingly, as if it were a possession. What authority do we have for doing that?
This passage from ACIM's Text has prompted me to undertake a new practice: Consciously thanking this body for its use as a residence; recognizing its own legitimate existence; and releasing any sense of my having imprisoned or in any other way exercised authority over it.
Doing so has generated a curious, unexpected reaction. I feel release. I feel lighter, more comfortable, less fettered.
What's the old saying about the warden being as imprisoned as the prisoner?
Of course, if it is all an illusion, what difference does it make? But, then, it is not really an illusion as long as it seems real. That is, to argue that it is an illusion is a cop out, until it really is seen and felt and known to be an illusion. There's a Catch 22 in there, but I think it is necessary and unavoidable, otherwise we (1) fool ourselves and (2) somehow take advantage of ... well, I'm not sure exactly of what, but something.
Anyway, it is making for some interesting thoughts.