Be mindful of the body in the body

In his novel The Dubliners, James Joyce writes that a certain Mr. Duffy “lived a little distance from his body.” The Buddha is said to have instructed his students to “be mindful of the body in the body.”

Yes, I have a body: skin, bones, blood, and dozens of chemical elements and trillions of atoms. And cells that die and are replaced; ditto for neurons, except that not all replaced as the body ages. Most of what goes on in “my” body, moment by moment and across the life span, does so unnoticed, beyond control and comprehension. But what about this body within the body?

“To be mindful is to touch the body with benevolent attention,” writes Jack Kornfield, “to acknowledge it, to say yes to this mysterious human body that you’ve been given. … Your body does not belong to you. You rent it for a while, like a car or a hotel room, but it’s not your true home” (pp. 77-78). Ancient Zen teachers referred to the human body as a bag of bones.

I’ve been looking for ‘home’ for some time, even came close a few times. To me, it’s not a pollyannish delusion or something the ‘universe will provide.’ It exists deep inside, beyond anything the small self can imagine. Kornfield suggests that by “listening deeply, your body will connect you back to the body of the Earth. As you sense that you are not separate from the planet, you know that to take care of your body you also must take care of the streams and the rivers, and the web of life within which you exist” (p. 79).

p.s. After finishing this post, I walk down our street to a little park. Sheltered from the rain under a cedar’s canopy, leaning against the bark on bare feet, I gently close my eyes. First the breath, coming and going. The mind settles, skin feels permeable, fully receptive. Roots. Moisture. No separate tree or rain, neither body nor monkey mind. No past, no future, just this.

Suddenly a flock of high school kids en route to pizza and coke, one shouting louder than the next. Rats! Nice while it lasted, this breath within the breath. Good to know that the gate is always open.

Kornfield, J. (2011). A lamp in the darkness: illuminating the path through difficult times. Boston: Shambhala. Kornfield trained as a Buddhist monk in Thailand, Burma, and India, holds a PhD in clinical psychology, and has taught worldwide since 1974. Image credit.