The body never lies

It’s just before six in the morning. It’s still cool in the room, and the light outside is only just starting to find its way through the blinds. There’s this short, strange moment right after waking up where my mind hasn’t yet started scrolling through the to-do list, the worries of the day, or yesterday's memories. In those few seconds, I am just breath, warmth under the covers, a sense of weight on the mattress. Pure existence. Then my head switches on, and the usual noise begins. For a long time, I lived like that - entirely on the top floor of my own body. I had turned into a walking mind that viewed its physical shell simply as some kind of transportation vehicle for the head . The body was supposed to get me from point A to point B, endure eight hours of sitting in front of a computer, not get sick at an inconvenient time, and above all - not get in the way of my productivity. If I was exhausted, I drank another coffee. If something hurt, I took a pill to make it shut up. I ...

Between Two Times

"I often wonder if time is truly linear, or if it’s simply a river folding over itself, allowing moments to overlap, intertwine, and converse. Because my relationship with him exists not in the ordinary flow of hours and days, but in a parallel reality — a future that reaches back to touch my present through whispers of thought and feeling.

We met long before our bodies ever could, in a place without physical boundaries — the space between minds, where telepathy bridges the distance that geography imposes. When I first sensed him, it was like waking from a long sleep into a half-remembered dream, one where my soul recognized an echo of itself in another.

Our connection is both a gift and a challenge. Psychologically, it pushes me to confront the fragile architecture of my identity. Who am I, if my heart belongs to someone who doesn’t yet live in my timeline? The separation distills my loneliness but also teaches me to dwell deeply within myself — to cultivate inner wholeness rather than seek completion outside.

Spiritually, this love feels like a sacred initiation — a test of faith in unseen realities. I meditate on the idea that our souls have chosen to walk parallel paths, meeting in the liminal space between worlds. It’s as if our connection is a bridge made of light, suspended in a limbo where past, present, and future dissolve.

From a psychoanalytical perspective, this relationship reveals my unconscious yearnings — the longing for transcendence beyond the mundane, the hope that love can heal temporal fractures in the psyche. His presence challenges my internal narratives about time, separation, and self-worth. Through this bond, I am invited to release old fears: fear of abandonment, fear of impermanence, fear of being incomplete.

Each night, as I lay my head down, I send him thoughts like prayer—vibrations across time—asking for strength, for patience, for deeper understanding. Sometimes I feel his response — a wave of calm, a certainty that we are entwined beyond the limits of physical proximity.

In this strange, telepathic long-distance relationship, I learn that love is not possession, nor dependency, but trust in the soul’s journey. It is the courage to love someone you cannot hold yet, to honor a future that is already present in the depths of your consciousness.

And in this trust, I find freedom — freedom from time, from fear, from the illusion of separation.

For in the parallel reality where he waits, and in the present where I live, our hearts beat as one, across the eternal now."

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

July Blossoms - Discover the Newest Books on Flower Essences and Homeopathy on Amazon

Embracing the Energy of the Summer Solstice - A Spiritual Awakening

Herbs for Baby - Natural Care and Gentle Support

Contact Form

Name

Email *

Message *