Attached

Newborn

Feeling no pain at all can be liberating. One felt free from all the suffering and hurt, so unburdened that even one's own name might fade away. But feeling no pain also meant not feeling anything at all. There was nothing. For the first time, I felt light. High above the sky, meaningless, free.

Being that detached from the world made one free. I was in a daze.

Slowly and steadily I felt my skin start to prickle and tingle. That freedom started to slowly slip away. I had no choice but to let it slip it away, there was no chance at keeping it. I felt it coming to an end. I felt the dreading fear spread in my body. I felt more and more uneasy by the second. Even if I could not move, my body somehow started to be alarmed and began to shiver.

But suddenly something changed, I felt warmer. My body felt the heat crawling in. The sun was gradually shining on my face. It felt more and more heated each moment. It was comforting in some way and I stopped shivering as much. It wasn't weird or uncomfortable, it was fresh and compelling.

I was afraid that feeling might end too just like the feeling before, so I tried to take every moment fully in, without missing any moments. Steadily I noticed my chest moving up and down. Some fresh air was inhaled into my nose. It smelled rich and musty. It also smelled earthy and intensely damp. I released the air through my mouth.

The grass beneath me began tingling my back and my hands. My fingers twitched first, almost imperceptibly, as if they were remembering how to exist. A faint ache bloomed in my joints, dull and distant, but real. The ground no longer felt like an abstract surface beneath me; it pressed back, firm and present. Each blade of grass traced itself against my skin, no longer being a whisper. I could feel where my body ended and the world beneath me began.

The warmth deepened. It no longer rested only on my face but seeped inward, settling in my chest and stomach, spreading slowly through my limbs. With it came the noticeable weight. My arms felt heavy, my legs even heavier, as if gravity had only just remembered me. The lightness I had known receded further, dissolving into something denser, something undeniable. I was here, breathing, living onward.

My breathing grew steadier, soothing in my ears. Each inhale stretched my ribs a little more, each exhale releasing a faint tension I hadn't known I carried. The air scratched my throat slightly, cool compared to the sunlit skin of my face. I swallowed, feeling the motion ripple through my neck. Slowly I grew awareness of my existence.

Sounds began to filter in, hesitant at first. A distant rustle, leaves shifting somewhere above. The hushed steps of something alive, unseen. A stream next to me was flowing silently. They layered themselves gently, not overwhelming or rushed, just enough to remind me I was not alone in this space. My eyelids fluttered, heavy and resistant. Even closed, I sensed the brightness beyond them, a pale glow trying to come through. I could the feel heat pressing through.

A deeper sensation followed—pain, faint but unmistakable. Not sharp, not cruel, but present. It lived in my shoulders, in the small of my back, in places that had been still for too long. My limbs remained motionless.

I laid there, suspended between stillness and motion, between what had been lost and what was coming back. Each second stitched me more firmly into myself. The daze thinned, replaced by a quiet, fragile awareness. I did not move yet. I simply existed, awake now, breathing, grounded—no longer free in the empty sense, but alive in a way that mattered.

After a while I attempted to open my eyes. My eyelids felt very heavy. As I lifted my eyelids the sun was shining really strong, just as expected. First it was all just white, my eyes still had to get used to my environment. After some blinking and adjusting I started to get used to it. The sky was colored in a rich blue.