In this time of increasing xenophobia, I’m advocating for xenophilia. But not in the sense of embracing other cultures, although that’s important. I’m thinking more in the sense of what Buddhists call “Beginner’s Mind.”
When I’m able to be mindful, even mundane, ordinary things become strange, new, and different. By cultivating curiosity, I find painful sensations in the body are not static, but ever-changing and morphing. I’m reminded of how I saw things in childhood.
One of my favorite things to do as a child was to lie on the floor and look up at the ceiling. I’d imagine the ceiling was a pristine, white floor. At each doorway was a low wall to step over to walk into the next room. I loved this altered way of seeing something that was always in plain view but rarely investigated.
Hi Deborah, I like that you chose Xenophile and it makes me feel unimaginative for only having chosen Xenophobia! I did spend quite a lot of time in bed as a child around 5-6 with chronic bronchitis and I used to imagine the bed surface as a landscape – I could raise my knees to create hills and so on. Likewise in the bath, the water between my legs as a long inlet of the sea…
Hi Andrew, Others have told me that this post reminded them of what they paid attention to, what they reimagined as children: bugs in the grass, puddles of water, patterns on the carpet. It’s a memory accompanied by a smile.