What was done to him was like what happens on the train, when you think you are moving forward, but are moving backward, and suddenly find out the real direction.
"Yes, it was all not right," he said to himself, "but never mind. I can, I can do 'right.' But what is 'right'?" he asked himself and suddenly grew still.
--from The Death of Ivan Ilyich
My whole life, particularly as a student, I have had a hard time holding on to writing utensils. Buying lead refills was always in vain: I would almost always lose the pencil before it required a refill.
Why would this happen? I expect that I so objectified each pencil, as an instrument for my own use, a mere means to an end, that I would not care for the pencil itself, in any regard.
This made me realize that if, as Avicenna contends, the body is merely a tool for the soul, I would probably not care a bit for my body. Also, I would consequently quickly lose my body.