How to be somebody else

Once I woke up, before all my trivialities I call problems invade my mind, I had a liberating, almost enlightening thought. “What if this is my very first day in this body?" What if my soul recognizes this skin as a brand-new flesh; a Tabula Rasa of some sort. Ignoring the obvious disputes that this thought inevitably brings, I decided to welcome the thought for tea and dwell on it for a while. What an unbinding thought; deliberately letting go of your past grievances and accomplishments. A self, almost completely, detached from former notions, habits, and thought processes. As I continue to dive in deeper in this morning reflection, I realize I have access to dusty tools that were stored oblivion; means I didn’t have in the past body. This new body is filled with unlived potential and talents placed on the shelf of glorious mediocrity. As my slept in vision wanders around the room, I sit in front of the mirror and take in every detail I might have missed before. Resisting the urge to pick up the phone and enter a void of mindless instant gratification; the routine, the morning coffee, the hustle. In the effort to maintain this unaccustomed state of mind, I denied myself to compromise with past ways. Intently looking at every inch of my body an increasingly uncomfortable situation. I began noticing intrinsic details I didn’t have the interest to be aware of before. The way my neck falls gracefully on smooth amber shoulders or the almost indistinguishable facial marks made by the curious squinting of almond shaped eyes. A refreshing depth to an, otherwise, average set of brown eyes. Taking time to love and entertain this new body I get a chance to revel in. Meticulously learning and joyfully accepting every detail of flaccidity, firmness and strength. Searching for new discoveries in this lovely self I get to call home. Then, the thought ran continuously through my head “This is the very first day of a life” I whispered, as I slow danced in the, almost palpable, melody of gratitude and grace. I caressed the elongated curves alongside the entirety of the vessel. A fresh opportunity to master these individual traits you were scared to call talents. Tools that were always gifts in disguise but ignored out of fear of crippling self-criticism. Staring at hands that grasp tightly the endless ways of creation I don’t only have the ability to bring forth but the responsibility to carry out; to leave as much as I’ve taken.