“I CAN NO LONGER DEFINE THE BOUNDARIES OF MY BODY”

I’ve been thinking about being small, weak–what this means when you’re in a mall. One night I realized that my favorite writers might all be small, I mean physically. The store for “petites” was crowded. I don’t know why I went in–I’m average. My body was tangling in the cord of my iPod, and then the battery died. When I got back to work, the cord looked like a map of where I’d been.

Matter in another universe has a kink that keeps it from going crazy.

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It is as if the more passive, noncommittal, and self-absorbed the figure, the more “dominion” it exerts over the space around it. [.]

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“I can no longer define the boundaries of my body. I can’t define where I begin and where I end, becuase the atoms and molecules of my arm blended with the atoms and molecules of the wall, and all i could detect was this energy, energy”

“because I could no longer define the boundaries of my body I felt enormous and expansive”

“this was perhaps my moment of transition”

“I remember thinking there was no way I’d be able to squeeze the enormousness of myself back inside this tiny little body”

(Jill Bolte Taylor in a talk she gave about having a stroke in the left hemisphere of her brain.)