Big Hands

About once a month or so, when I’m sitting on my meditation bench in the morning, my hands get big. They get, like, really big. Approximately house sized. And sensation seems to subside, except that I am keenly aware of my hands, and everything else. My whole body gets big too, sometimes bigger than a house, but no matter how big my body gets, my hands seem to remain bigger than my body. All the while my focus is on every little scrap of breath, while at the same time it’s on everything else too, including the occasional thought that might begin to pop up, but they hardly have a chance of growing in this environment. It’s all quite something. The borders between me and not me become less defined. It’s not an easy place to describe, or to arrive at, but quite simple and easy to reside there once there.