Unbearable Invisibleness

One of the great books I read long ago, 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being,' came to mind this morning. It's one of those books that changes the way you see the world...forever, or at least, for awhile, or at least, until you don't think about it any more, or until you stop forgetting it and recall reading it one morning in February years later. Or...something like that.

I've got a 'bug,' in my system, feeling 'under the weather,' and I have this sense that I'm deeper into my body and less in the world. Maybe that's one of the side benefits of illness, it reminds you of the primacy of the body, and the insubstantiality of the world. I was thinking of an Invisible Man in reverse; a man who drinks a concoction that makes him visible to others, but invisible to himself.

Or how about the Completely Invisible Man, who is invisble to himself and to others and as 'he,' walks around, he actually erases the reality he encounters? That's kind of how I feel this morning, but this feeling vanishes as soon as I feel it. So, maybe I'll erase these lines, or maybe not, or, oh well, you get the idea.