Is it blasphemy to believe that our bodies are a temple, and our lives sacred? But why would it be wrong?
I am human: I have the power of thought, logic and reasoning. I can learn skills, moralize, and philosophize; I can lead and I can follow; I can smash it down but I can build it up. I can, I sometimes feel, be capable of ruling the world—by the power that is most obvious, and also by the power that is elusive and hard to describe. I am all this and more, so is not my vessel—my body—sacred? And is not my life more so?
Will this change if I lose my health? My intelligence? My limbs? My sight? Will this state of blessedness change? Is it so fragile? When I age and lose my sharpness of mind, my clarity of sight, will I no longer be blessed?
If the answer is no—the blind can be blessed, the limbless holy—then one concludes that being human, in any state and form of humanity, is to be divine. Is it?
And why can't other people see this truth? Or at least this direction of truth? Why do they insist of sullying themselves, beating themselves and others into the ground, engaging in ugly behaviors and staining their visage and souls with anger, hatred, jealousy, boredom, contempt...
Could it be that we are surrounded by divinity, only we cannot see it?
Could it be that we are in heaven, only we don't know it?
Excerpt from The Collection of Strange Tales