Then Again
On his death bed the old man said, Whatever it is, whatever you do, whatever you love, whatever you feel, don’t make it a religion. Then, nearing his last breath, he raised his hand a little and whispered, Unless . . . . [ 1776 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Breath’
Garden Song
I found myself at shovel’s depth, sweet loam above and more below than I could imagine; first my knees, then my hands — I’d never felt such welcome; my face, my breath — I no longer cared to stand, let my limbs sink in as a favorite story might begin; and when I reached the end, I awoke to death, and pulled the shovel out again. . [ 1757 ]
Purpose
I wonder about purpose. Does the universe have a purpose? Does the sun? Do I? Or are we simply here, and here simply, spinning, gently, of this music, and burning bright? Isn’t this enough? Must I impose myself on this miracle and whittle it down to my size? Must I choose one thing or another and say, This is why I am here? Must I be that important? Can’t I […]
Infinite, Deep, Profound
To witness a miracle, spend a day, a few hours, or even a few minutes listening to your body. Be still. Don’t sit in judgment. There’s no need for words. Notice where it hurts. Notice where it doesn’t. Notice your heartbeat, and the rise and fall of your breath. Notice your digestion. And along with this noticing, notice too how everything is happening of its own accord. The body is […]
The Garden and the Poem
I’ve lived long enough to know that whatever I try to do is weakened by the effort. Whatever I try to say, is rendered less clear. I’ve learned that even before I begin, the doing and saying is already being done for me, and that by keeping breath in this body, life is allowing me to take part in a process as playful as it is timeless and profound. Life […]
In the Fullness of My Time
I try to live simply, without wasted thought, movement, or breath — not as a matter of laziness, but of calm, peaceful efficiency. Whatever it is, I know that if I can’t do it slowly and gracefully, I’ll never be able to do it quickly and effectively. Similarly, if I can’t say something softly, I’d be a fool to shout it from a mountaintop. I also try to write this […]
A Small Leap
As the mind and body are connected by the breath, all three are connected to the stars, because in that awareness, everything is present, everything is here. Or, not the stars, if they seem too far — a loved one, a pet, the trees, the flowers. . [ 1715 ]
Children of the Precipice
Children of the Precipice, it’s time for authenticity, not pose. * To heal a part, you must love the whole. * As a participant in this beautiful immensity, I don’t feel insignificant, I feel fortunate. With each breath, I’m as near as the apple and worm, and as far as the most distant star. We’re intimately related and uniformly blessed, part of the same miracle. . [ 1661 ]
Winter Birds
Look at them. Some are so small, they seem only feathers and a heartbeat. And though we’re made differently, we’re made of the same things, and share the same breath. To me, this isn’t just poetry, religion, or science. It’s miraculous, inspiring, intimate. Thank goodness I don’t need to prove its significance, or tell you what it means. You already know we’re here to love each other, ourselves, and all […]
William Michaelian 