The Satellite

I have the three slaps, and I know for a fact that nobody can make me move.

So nobody can make me slap myself.

I leave case 1 and case 2 alone.

I have nothing to do with them. They are outside my control.

Is case 3 in my control? It appears so.

Nobody can make me slap myself.

That is a fact.

But would I ever slap myself?

That is suspicious.

I believed I had both full access and full control over my hand.

That much I knew.

Through my encounter with the thief, I realized that I can also lose access and lose control, completely.

So I am no longer confident in my old understanding of control.

I may have full control and full access, but if something else also has that, that is a risk that I may get slapped. Then who is slapping me?

If I leave my hand alone, because that is not a place where I have full control and full access alone. I share access on my hand. Then I am back in full control and full access alone.

I see the potential to slap myself, and I do not know how to manage that.

So I leave it alone.

I apply the same understanding to see where else I might be sharing my full access and full control with something else.

I may not be able see how I slap myself, but I found a way to recognize when I have the potential to slap myself.

That would be a conflict for my claim:

Nobody other than me can make me slap myself.

Now I have an idea of how I slap myself.

I want to find the place where I do not slap myself.

Whenever I discover a place where I am slapping myself, I step back.

I watch my movements.

What is moving me?

Work makes me wake up early. I stay in bed.

Work has complicated ways of asking me to slap myself.

I have full access and full control over having a job, but I share that capacity with something else.

If I can, I step back from that agreement. Not because working is bad, but because I do not want to be there if I am slapping myself.

Relationships. Partners. Family. Friends.

They are nature, and natural.

They also have complicated ways of asking me to slap myself—and I do.

I retreat from all activities with other people when I can.

I realize they do not use my hand to slap me, but they ask me to slap myself.

I cannot resist the requests.

So I retreat.

I am alone—outdoors or indoors.

The outdoors call me. Can I stay home?

Is my movement voluntary?

I stop outdoor activities.

I am alone at home.

It may feel like slapping myself, but I do that to myself.

It may seem like a voluntary self-slap, but I see it as cutting off the invisible pathways that might lead to self-slap.

It feels counterintuitive.

I do not know how to stop slapping myself.

I do not want to be inside a moving car if I do not know how to get out of it.

If I have the chance to walk, I take that.

That is the cost I exchange for safety.

Books, TV, internet, social media, music etc.

They move me without my permission.

I throw them out when I get the first chance.

I am home alone.

What is moving me?

My legs move.

I stop them.

I sit as much as I can.

My hands move. I stop them.

My body moves. I stop it.

I stop all physical movement for the sake of not slapping myself— as much as I can.

If I return to old habits, so be it.

But as soon as I notice, I come back here again.

I get off the moving car, and I walk.

I stop.

I sit.

I am bored.

I notice my eyes moving.

They wander around.

I stop them. I lock my gaze.

Then I notice my eyelids move without me.

The same problem appears everywhere.

I have full access and full control over them— and so does something else.

I step out of that deal when I can.

I close my eyes.

I am bored again.

I scan around.

I hear voices.

I check whether I can be somewhere quiet.

They are temporary; I ignore them as much as I can.

Same problem here.

Ears are not as easy to stop as eyes.

I cannot stop them from hearing.

I may go to extremes—absolute silence, earplugs— or live with random sounds.

They belong to nature.

The first case.

I sit in a quiet place, eyes closed.

Am I slapping myself?

If so how?

What kind of moving car am I on now?

I recognize a moving vehicle only when I step off another that is moving with it.

From Earth, I look at one of its satellites.

Is it moving?

How do I know it is moving?

Can I know it is moving if I do not look from somewhere other than Earth?

However painful, I will get off anything that moves me without my permission.

Nobody other than me can make me move.

If I recognize otherwise, I leave that alone.

I can always get back on when I am sure that I am the one moving myself.

What is still moving me?