Shower
I was standing in the shower, spraying myself down with a pressure sprayer that I believe was originally built for spraying pesticides or herbicides – poison.
I had only two or three litres of hot water in it, just enough to spray myself for 10-20 minutes, just enough to get clean. It didn't feel dignified, and being on a mushroom trip, I decided to let that feeling sink in a bit.
I started feeling more like an animal than like a human. Instead of having as much hot water as I wanted, I only had the bare minimum to fulfil my physical need. I looked down on my body. It looked like that of a naked pig to me.
I realized how, apart from the contents of my mind, my body was essentially worthless. Even as a source of meat it would probably be almost worthless because of toxins accumulated over the course of its life.
Maybe the organs would be worth something, the kidneys, the heart, the lungs. But maybe not even that.
I remembered how my boss had given me that weird look earlier that day when I had entered the office, with his jaw pushed forward, as if he was asking himself: “Is this guy really worth the money I'm paying him?”
I started thinking about my attitude towards life and how it differed from yours. I imagined myself explaining to you:
“I understand that you have chosen to live your life as fully as possible and to take full responsibility for your own experience. I admire that.
But you are standing in front of someone who has decided to not live fully and not take full responsibility.”
I felt terribly sorry for having a bad influence on you and I felt unworthy of our connection. But then I had enough. This was not satisfying.
I realized that I could start with how I see my own body. It might not have great value for the majority of other people, but to me it had the greatest value.
It was what allowed me to experience this world, to experience joy, pleasure, even love. I could do with it whatever I wanted, and I had the power to fully relief it from any pain. Suddenly it seemed like the most beautiful thing to me.
Getting out of the shower, drying my body, dressing it in my favourite clothes, I was suddenly feeling great.
My choice was not permanent, I could always reconsider it. It was easier to take full responsibility for my life, and it was easier to live fully than to limit myself and end up with regret.
There was no balance that needed to be found between two extremes, there was only one direction to go. Up.
When the wind rises, one must try to live.
“Le vent se lève! . . . Il faut tenter de vivre!”