Each pass down the body is different. Feeling each part anew. Each part expressing something. Sensation. And to be in touch with the entire body in this way feels fo very genuine, like everything else I get up to during a day is fritting about, insubstantial. This sitting is substantial. Continually surprised at the depth of the aches and tensions. By being in touch with all of it, there is no longer anything to be afraid of. I thought I was afraid of the things half touched upon. Then there is fear of half of something, I didn’t know what, and imagination as to what it is takes over. It is simpler than that: what is happening now. No imagination. No reaction needed. No resistance required.
Strong sensation of fear. Feeling it in the chest but it’s very slippery. Which suggests to me that I am tying to do something about it. After some now obvious cat and mouse, I resume the head to foot practice of feeling sensation in each part of the body. A knot deep in the right shoulder. This time the sensation is way less slippery and my gentle attention is able to penetrate. The sensation gradually builds to a climax until I just can’t take it anymore, an overwhelming fire until it fades rapidly away. Perhaps even a little disappointing when it’s over as I’m back to the everyday. In the direct connection it feels I am really living, that this is life itself. The norm seems to be a game of avoidance and attempted action to do something about the state of affairs. In such close observation, there is nothing to do about anything. Pain in the right calf, which eventually leaves me sobbing. I suspect the reason we are so frenetic is avoidance of sensation. If I stop, I need to start again soon, else I’ll start to feel, heaven forbid.
To what extent am I controlling the breath? To what extent is it natural? A long inquiry into the subtlety of breath. Am I with the breath? Where am ‘I’? Then the body starts to move. Am I moving it? Back off; observe. Am I observing with a motive for things to change? Observe. The arm shakes to a maximum intensity, then ceases. A pain in my right foot. How am I watching it? It’s pain, must be bad. It’s pain, must stay with it. It’s pain, it should change. It’s still there: what is it like, this pain thing? Is it static or shifting? It’s shifting. It’s more intense. It’s actually almost ticklish way inside the pain, not painful. I almost want to smile. Headline: pain isn’t painful! Then it’s over and there’s sensation elsewhere. Building through my neck. How am I aware of it? I want it gone! What’s it like? A deep ache. Terrible. Why say terrible? I don’t want to feel it. Run! Off into daydreams. There’s the pain again. Not pain, sensation. The deep ache spreads into a wider area, dissipates. Energy rushing through the spine into the neck, head. The head shakes wildly until all sensation is focussed on a tense area in the head; the ultimate headache. Shaking, head shaking, into that spot. Intensifying then just as there’s nothing else but the headache, it’s over and I’m still, breath is soft, the body strong and upright, and it’s just another morning.