The adventure
I woke up in a horrifying shock one morning. It was 4am and I'm sweating with fear. Lying warmly under my thick blanket but only one arm could feel it. Something happened to me during my sleep ... That something kept me thinking until today ... That something changed my perspective of life.
This happened to me not long after I moved into my new commune.
Before I slept. I placed my phone next to my head like I usually do and switched on my alarm clock for the next day around 7am. Without a second minute of thought, I passed out.
I am generally a still person. When I sleep, I'm mostly on my back. That night was weird though. While I was sleeping I must have twisted my hand in a funny position so that my left hand was hanging lifelessly above my head. As all night sleeps turns out, the sleep passes by quick but the time laps was actually really long.
So around 4am I heard a loud thumb on my bed. I forgot to mention that I do not sleep on mattresses and that's where the loud thumb came from. With the thumb, I also felt my left shoulder move. So I presumed that that must have been my left arm.
This was when things started to become slightly peculiar. I was still slightly half asleep when I felt a hand resting on my left shoulder on the front. So I reached over to this object that felt like a hand with my right hand. I could feel that it was soft and cold as I carefully pinched it. It felt very familiar … My brain suddenly registered. The only thing my brain could register it as was a dead hand. I woke up thinking to myself that a dead hand was lying on my shoulder. was it a dead hand? Whose hand was it?
"Keep calm"
"It’s not moving"
My heart was pumping really quickly. I turned my head. Grabbed my phone. Switch on the torch. Shinned on "this" thing. It’s a hand!
… it was my hand…
The nerves in my brain was switched on now that I am wide awake. Pulses started trickle down my left arm. I was able to control my left hand again. Fingers were numb for a long time as I closed my fingers into a fist and release again.
The thoughts
I am fortune to understand how it feels to completely loose an arm. I could still picture this arm as a dead weight hanging onto my shoulder. My brain did not register that I was actually just touching my own hand. It was completely disjointed by the nerves. This body surely does not belong to me. I don’t own this body. I am merely borrowing it to fulfil my purpose in life.
So when I know that not even this body belongs to me … what more was there to be attached to? What more was there to be greedy about? What more was there to be selfish about? What more was there to fight for? What was the Meaning of Life now that not even our bodies truly exist?