Nature as Metaphor for Spirit

A week ago a friend of mine proposed the idea that our physical appearance is an enactment of our spiritual natures. Our physicality is a sort of metaphor or representation of our real spiritual selves. At the time I could not develop my idea of what that would mean for me. I have since done some more thinking and talking about it and have begun to form a possible connection between my appearance and my spiritual nature.

To be blunt, I am gaunt...and pale almost anemic, with reddish hair and perminantly chewed fingernails. I have the appearance of a person who has been locked in a coffin for 3 days and has given up scratching the box and is now proceeding to survive by chewing his own leathern belt. I have tense and toned, albeit minimal, muscles. I appear therefore to be weak, but I am rather more wirey and dexterous. I guess you could say that I look quite a bit like Gollum. I have the wired and jittery movements of a chain-smoking, coffee drinking insomniotic air-traffic controller. My eiree eyes have large black bags under them from lack of sleep. My indented cheeks are further ecsentuated by my satyr-like red goatie. Value Village clothing with excentric hats, canes and a pocket watch add to the "slightly off" image. My slightly crooked and elongated nose add to the Jewish comedian look. Hair usually trailing up into some sort of unorderly peak. I am incredibly gangly and flexible, my fingers are stubby yet remain spidery. I look like a character from a Charles Dicken's novel or a Lewis Carroll hallucination. This is a partial description of my physical appearance. What could these features possibly mean for my spiritual nature?

My most influential feature which affects most of my appearance is anxiety. I am a restless spirit. I am not satisfied with anything. I am constantly in motion, trying to stay ahead of the wave of existence which is pushing me forward and trying to suck me back. I am wasted by life; tired out by the constant movement. I am like a marathon runner who cannot stop running for fear of being overtaken. I am a wandering spirit...but I am driven. I would rather outrun a problem than face it, I view escape as a victory just as overpowering an adversary is usually thought of as victory. I am skin and bones yet still as hard as a rock from incredible tension. My compact and tired physical body is therein explained by my inability to be still.

Sometimes this anxiety comes out in a more furious desperation or manic movement. My wild eyes, chewed finger nails and kramer-like hair are indicative of this. My restlessness taken to its tiring and fathomless insanity leaves by body wild looking. I am also a freak. My spirit is just not normal! I have glimpsed more fully in recent days that I am truly and utterly socially insane. This explains the way I dress and also my comedic hair and "tv ugly" nose. Red hair is also usually a symbol of deviance. My eyes which have been described as "always laughing" are very deceptive, they are just seething green pools full of angry leeches. I'm not a people person, I am not an extrovert, I am a comedian because I am mortally terrified of being laughed at by other people. I try to assert myself as an outgoing comedian because I am terrified of allowing other people to see who I really am...a man trapped in a coffin, desperately clawing at the lid whilst I sup on my leather belt. G'ah! I would be a preppy if I wasn't so damn insane.

Sometimes the tension and restless wandering is too much for my spirit to endure so I get into depressive slumps, which is probably why I don't change much physically. I haven't really grown much since grade 11. Despite my constant movement I am in a state of static frustration. My body therefore remains 5'10" 130 lbs. (This seemingly fruitless cycle of futility can actually be seen in a more positive light, but that is another topic).

I pride myself on my flexibility, or "limberness". I like to think that my spirit is open to any direction that it may wander, just as my body stretches easily. Oddly enough both my spiritual and physical flexibility come from the imposition of external repressive forces. Interesting.

I really have no more to say on this. I am quite contented reading Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac. I shall have to soon write a post defending the position that I am Not a Zen Buddhist, although the evidence would say otherwise...