My body is amazing. All bodies are amazing. Mine has served me well all these decades. It continues to do so. I appreciate its giving me its appearance of life — taking me places, communicating with others, letting me see beauty, giving me pleasure, healing when it was sick or injured, protecting me when it senses danger, helping me to learn. When it wears out and finally collapses I will think how sorry I am to see it go. Thus, seeming to be the fount of my emotional states. It can carry forth a river of tears yet rise to laughter and joy. I have laughed so much in this body, tears running down my face, sides splitting joy and happiness with friends and family, or just sitting by self with a good movie. Of course, like all good things here in this world, there’s another side to it all. Where there is beauty there is dissonance; health, sickness; happiness, sadness; order, dis-order; having, not having; peace, war; light, darkness; life, death — on and on. All felt by the body and interpreted as real. The body is a stage, a theater it seems, for the Bob show. Those who come have a ticket saying “Admit One” bringing their own theater to show their own show while they watch mine.
It watches all that it attends to while its heart beats a drum call to other bodies who care to listen. It’s blood races through its smooth streams carrying all kinds of messages to itself as to how to see a world. A world that is at best confusing, at its worst frightened of its own shows, which can be very, very sad or worried over its moments of happiness, which we are sure will die along with it. The body isn’t eternal but we think it ought to be. And we hope one day we’ll make it so.
What is it that drives a body? My ego loves such questions. Not because it has any answers. Only because questions it can’t answer for the questioner are its forte. It proves to itself that not providing an answer it most surely does not have will further it’s power over the questioner, who it has taught to tell itself it doesn’t deserve an answer now. Just keep searching to not find what you are searching for. Madness is the egos goal in all pursuits. Seek and do not find. The body is its life.
Because I can think as I want I have a body. However, thoughts can be unreal. Loving thoughts are real and, therefore, eternal. Truth is eternal, as is love. I can think what is true, therefore loving and eternal. I have no evidence bodies carry on after death. While I likewise cannot prove mind is real and eternal. I do know my mind carries ideas. My mind carries thoughts or ideas that never leave their source. Anger never leaves its source, although we try to make it. The best we can do is delude ourselves it has. But we’re always stuck with it, like a fly on fly paper. Love on the other hand never leaves its source. It is extended through creation and grows in its Source. That is the same rule that governs anger and other insane feelings. A bad idea has no effect because it has no cause. While love appears other directed in this world, in God’s world it is self directed. It is the only thing we can give away and keep.