I bow humbly at the intimacy of body. I sit here discussing logical frameworks, but inside the core of this body that carries my consciousness, I suddenly become aware, of those minute potassium ions crossing hurriedly cellular membranes, while their sodium partners cross to the opposite side, like migrant workers along porous national borders. They do the crossings purposefully, and by doing that, enable sensitivity and cell communication, those little ions traversing vast lands of interface, like Hobbits walking into Mordor.
“The goal of our action plan is to achieve a reduction of (poverty, illiteracy, forest encroachment, population, pollution by year 2098) and how are we going to measure if we are being successful. The role of performance indicators...”. My colleague had thick dark eyebrows, which moved graciously up and down, as his voice asserted his well-known points of logic. As I looked at him and saw so many things. There was a transparent light that fell upon that room, unbeknown to all, or at least not recognized publicly. So translucent, that it seemed endowed by a magnifying X-ray glass, and one could see body intimacies. One could observe laborious cells, miraculously singing in organismic orchestration, in synchrony of so many processes.
There were runaway ions crossing cellular membranes, nested coves of protein allowing quiet lovemaking between molecules, enzyme nests where molecules coupled cozy and established a relationship that procreated essential worlds, in a firmament of fluids, internal rivers, synthesis and excretion. “Measurable indicators have to be measurable, how are you going to determine if the project to promote sustainable agriculture in Burkina Faso has been successful, each activity is linked to a goal and to a measurable result”, continued my colleague.
My memory drifted into some inner realms, and I used the special light effects of the room to journey into yester days. I remembered the thrill of Christmas mornings when as a child I woke up and saw wrapped boxes under a tree, a magical tree adorned with intergalactic boiling lights that had all colors, a tree of golden glow, and my heart skipped a beat or two, as I ran with a shout of pure delight and started opening boxes of mystery, with objects in plastic and wood, with all forms and shapes, frozen miniatures of the world, models to play, toys.
My colleague’s eyebrows continued their up and down motion in shifts of intense expression as he imprinted effectively his course on logical frameworks. I jumped from memory to interstice, and marveled at my now aging joints, how flexible they were, these hands that I discovered as a baby and marveled at, till I finally found that they were connected to me, until I forgot. I stood in awe at the intimacy of body. I stood in awe, at the crisscrossing ions creating fluxes of electrical impulses, upon which sensitivity travels, connecting all cells and tissues, the secretion of fluids and the incorporation of the ingredients that nourish and protect, this body-temple that houses our mind-heart.
I am astonished at the inventiveness of mind, how it integrates all perceptions of light, sound, caresses, fragrances and flavors, and conceives magnificent forms in space-time, as well as concepts, thoughts, dreams, quests, and technologies to expand the hands and endow the senses with remote.
Where do thoughts come from? I wondered, as I heard in the background my friend’s good intention, of having me learning logical frameworks, while I am lying down in some space that has absolutely no light, but is not darkness, looking at some inner horizons where I see thoughts crawling, shooting-in, oozing, (depending on their nature). They show up in the screen of my consciousness, like conceptual falling stars. Some do stay, as I play with them, clothed in memories, they talk about the past, others clothed in concern talk about the future, still others connect with energy lying around in the periphery, are energized, and become desires that request implementation.
I wondered at the creativity of mind, and became humbled at the multidimensionality of its alcoves, and their exquisite links with the intimacies of body.
The words of the speaker were coming to an end. I realized my daydreaming had prevented me, from knowing more about logical frameworks, and that I know still less about myself, than when I started the roller coasting journey through my veins, to reach capillary country roads, to have a cup of coffee on cell landscapes, as I watched the gurglings and whooshes of the ions in membrane borders, and the quiet lovemaking of molecules in their cozy beds of enzymes.
Or when I tried, to understand that innermost boundary, the backstage where thoughts are assembled, to understand why some were energized into desires and some just passed by in reflection.
My turn came to say something, in response to a question, and my mouth opened, and words came out in a flow, that surprised even those who had been mystified by the logical frameworks. I saw myself talking and was taken aback for a while, for it was my mind and my body, hand in hand, acting out a performance of intellect and sound generated from lungs, as in a reflex, being watched from another dimension by some silent witness who was observing the whole play with me as a character inside of it.
That silent witness is the one that I have sensed since I have memory. Always silently smiling as it observes this ‘me’ in all sorts of conditions. The one who surfaces when I am overwhelmed by the magic of the Universe. The one that sings when I love.
So, while trying to learn about logical frameworks, I peeked through a window which for a moment made me aware of the magic of being and life.