I am here now in this.
This week, that’s been my mantra for two daily 15 minute sessions of continuous breath work. In on I, out on am, in on here, out on now, in on in, out on this and then repeat. In between and, as needed, I say to myself, “this moment matters”.
Chico and I went for a six mile hike yesterday into the Delaware Wild Forest. The first mile or so was pretty much straight up and rather strenuous. Then we hiked to the main vista which was almost three miles. We could have kept going but it would have deposited us at a trailhead miles from the car, so we turned back. Luckily the GPS on my phone was working because sometimes the trail wasn’t marked so well.
Despite some troubling thoughts and feelings that had arisen the day prior, the hike was mostly filled with a “what else is there but this” type connection to the trees, wind and my own heartbeat. I am here now in this presence. At one point early on after our u-turn back to the car, I began talking to myself and fixating on an email exchange with a loved one from the day before. There was anger arising in me and as soon as I noticed it, I sat down, received a doggie hug and thorough licking from Chico who always seems to be acutely aware of my emotional states. All I did was sit with the feeling of anger for a few moments with intentional breathing while looking out at the vista.
I suddenly realized the anger was only a story. As soon as I embodied this awareness, the whole weight of the story fell away and a wave of pure love washed over me. I felt compassion for the recipient of my anger and all that was left was a vision of soothing that person’s pain. My own anguish simply dissolved. I got up and started walking again, feeling so much lighter. Then the idea came to me that I could choose to change the direction of things toward loving kindness in the email string, so I sat down again and did just that. There was no expectation of receiving a response, no need to be acknowledged, only lightness and warmth, as if I was simply offering an unconditional virtual embrace.
The story I was holding, and that I’ve been holding for so long, is that others are responsible for my pain. For that moment, it was a relief to step out of the victim/victor role, to feel that softening inside and truly surrender. It offered an opportunity for me to see my suffering and the suffering of others with new eyes. Of course, I wondered why it’s taken me so long to allow this awareness in (another story!) and I began to look for reasons. The breathing? The mantra? The L. Reuteri yogurt I’ve been making and eating every day? Or maybe it was just timing. Maybe none of the above, or perhaps all of the above, and does it really matter?
FYI L. Reuteri yogurt is also called “the yogurt of love” because it allegedly releases oxytocin in your system. It’s also delicious and for about ten days I’ve been putting it in my smoothies. TMI, gut-wise I’m back to one wipe poops! Cause for great celebration IMO. So far I’m pretty happy with the results. But I digress.
Whenever I feel challenging feelings arising these days, I simply stop and welcome them in, observing them as I would watch a bird in a tree or listening to song. Usually, without inquiry, a message comes and I just listen. Sometimes it’s grief, sometimes it’s anger and occasionally it’s fear. The big three. Committing to the breath work has required dedication and patience. Continuous breathing (breathing without pausing) isn’t so easy, especially for 15 minutes, but so far, it’s been grounding me in presence.
The other night, my son and I watched a beautiful movie called Perfect Days, directed by Wim Wenders. Here’s what my dear friend Matt said about it in a text:
The film made me feel like I often feel. I constantly look around and know that this is all fleeting. This life. The beauty. The humanity. The experience of everything. The powers that be are unaware of it. Or, if they are aware, they don’t care. But I see it. You see it. The film captures it, and made me feel encouraged knowing others realize it too! Now is now.
Now is now. Finding the sacred in the mundane. Finding the holy in each moment. Committing fully to simple acts such as cleaning toilets in public parks (like the character does in the film). Finding beauty in each other, even through suffering. Let me correct that, ESPECIALLY through suffering.
Sometimes when I’ve been on the subway I practice looking into the faces of each person, searching for their pure essence. With those we love, when disappointment or anger arises, perhaps we can all attempt the same but I say this with humility as I’m certainly no expert! Only once now, with awareness, while walking through the wild forest, was I able to shift my gaze, but I look forward to the next chance to try again.
I love this.