Learning to Breathe

I enjoy my internal world. I enjoy it so much that sometimes I find the morning light outside, when there should be only darkness flecked with shimmering at a distance. It’s then that I realize I am in a room.

Nearly every night I move my body around symmetrical lines and curves while dripping sweat. After, I will breathe, sitting still in silence, in centered ways. In different ways. I will breathe until my mind is empty of all things that it can be. It is good, feeling this.

This night thoughts wandered in, like ghostly shapes around a boundless periphery. There is a very fine line between life and death, even when we are safe. The ghostly thought shapes made me wonder what you thought about this.

Vishvarupa, the AllThere is a subtle yet profound difference between having a capacity or having an ability. That difference defines and restricts you, as you consider such questions. The conscious mind lumbers through modifications in an effort to know, and so control. Or, perhaps, to wall away from sight.

This is why I thought, this maple bar is far too intense in its sweetness. Its experience is unreal, far beyond the pleasure of the blueberries just a moment before. The sweetness and texture was a visceral overload, like a bomb that blasts your attention toward meaningless things that always want more. I thought, I prefer the quiet flavor of a sweet yogurt with mint.

I imagined, this must be like sky diving, or various other thrill-seeking pursuits. A visceral overload intended to reveal just what living is like. Or so it is said. It is telling, however, how subdued and introspective these people can become, later in life. Something led them, eventually, to the stillness of blueberries.

Sometimes it is difficult knowing what is sacred and what is not.

I wonder if it is like Christians, proud to be killing in war. What else are we supposed to do, they ask. As the terrorists are getting ready to kill us, should we be all kum-ba-yah? Is it not the teaching of Christ, your Lord, that you should die, rather than kill another? Don’t be a lawyer with me. If nothing else, then yes, you should be all kum-ba-yah.

And you Jews of Israel. God told you that all people, in all their diversity, exist so that you can better know yourself. What is it that you are learning about yourself now? Just look how high the Christians have raised you up.

At least the Muslims can be understood better, on a more human level, as a people who rise up to fight against invaders and pillagers. But this religion, too, has been co-opted as another tool that guides the modifications of mind toward the unholy.

Ah, well. I suppose the oldest religion in the world might be right. “The faith of each is in accordance with one’s own nature.” What we see now is the nature of people, not their better spirit. Where is the belief that people claim to have? “Man is made by his belief. As he believes, so he is.” I can only assume that, though they say otherwise, they have no true belief.

Rather, “Living in the abyss of ignorance, the deluded think themselves blessed. Attached to works, they know not God.” Our acts, and their acts, are obscene. “As one acts and conducts himself, so does he become. The doer of good becomes good. The doer of evil becomes evil.”

There is such a thin barrier between life and death, existence and non-existence. We are all so unique. Everything is so unique. The scale of this is staggering for the mind, yet blissful for the heart. They are one, and the same.

“The wise man should surrender his words to his mind;
and this he should surrender to the Knowing Self;
and the Knowing Self he should surrender to the Great Self;
and that he should surrender to the Peaceful Self.”

I suppose doing that is harder than killing someone and then asking for forgiveness. Or conjuring through the mind some peculiar sense of duty, that flies in the face of both rationality and the true heart. But it is always harder to walk the walk, than to talk the talk. We know the difference, though, don’t we?

The difference is the blueberries. It is the silence, with only your breath. It is that other person who might be your friend, or someone you love. Other spirits who breathe. They are remarkable. They are beautiful. They are everything.

“The little space within the heart is as great as the vast universe. The heavens and the earth are there, and the sun and the moon and the stars. Fire and lightening and winds are there, and all that now is and all that is not.”

These are all words from the oldest of religions. From the most ancient civilization. Judaism and its offshoots of Christianity and Muslim are barely teenagers in comparison. Rowdy, unruly, and dangerous teenagers. Selfish teenagers. Thugs.

It is time now, I think. We have to grow up. We have to start taking care of each other — to help and to share. To enjoy blueberries, and all the other little things. To put aside the maple bars. To focus on that which allows our existence to be meaningful. Doing so is not an act of destruction. On the contrary, it is an act of creation. It allows us to see and feel the simple yet overwhelming importance of another. And in doing so, it becomes an act of creation, within ourselves.

“Creation is only the projection into form of that which already exists.”