I am a tryer
and a cryer
a seeker who sought
to know his own heart true
to heal his heart
which he always felt
was on the verge of breaking
of giving up of hardening…
…and the tears of his own making
ran and fell along the path he was on…
flowed so fully that it felt as though a river of pain was possible
or was forming and frothing and churning ever more wickedly…
…the closer to his heart he got…
the more turbulence he experienced…
There were no seatbelts to be fastened.
and still he sought and tried he thrashed and was bashed
as he tried to keep breathing…
…to get his “bearings,” he kept breathing
…to “settle down,” he kept breathing
…to “clear his mind,” he kept breathing
To be still breathing…he practiced being still…in his breathing—with his breath
And he recognized breathing, eventually, for the teacher it had been and still is.
One response
Breathing … with my breath … is such a fundamentally simple way of ‘me’ connecting with ‘me’ in the moment, yet it is something that I so often overlook. Repeatedly.
I, for one, have this particular lesson on a permanent ‘repeat’ … I think the phrase is ‘cyclical learning’ …