Trapped in the body

My dog was licking my fingers after I played classical guitar as is her custom (she waits at my feet while I am playing knowing this treat awaits). The metal of the windings of the lower strings and the sweat on my palms are apparently very tasty.

I notice how my dogs have paws instead of hands with fingers and opposable thumbs like I do, and they think paws are normal. (I doubt they understand what it is like to possess hands; they merely notice that hands give them food treats and pet them.) The things dogs can do with paws are limited compared to my hands. (They can't play classical guitar, for example.)

Ditto for all the other characteristics of dogs: small brain the size of a lemon, licking, having a snout with long teeth, walking on four legs, having a tail.

We are all trapped in our bodies. My dogs don't wish they could escape from it; they think this is just how it is and they have adapted to it. But we don't feel claustrophobic in our bodies like we would if we were crawling through a narrow opening under our house or in a cave. (I suppose some people with certain psychological disorders might feel trapped in their body.)

We don't feel this kind of claustrophobia, but, in a way, we should feel this. We can't escape from our body. We are trapped down to the molecular level. Our souls are completely integrated and constrained by the physics, chemistry, and biological realities.

Only through the mind, through the spirit, can we venture out of our body.