Essence of a Thing

     The world holds your being. These cosmos hold your being. The very stitches of love hold your being.

     Throughout our busy days, we often lose sight of our initial goals, those goals that leap into our minds when we first awake from our nightly slumber, pockets of inspiration. We forget what we set out for, and we forget ourselves.

     Moments of heightened or even repressed emotions act like a stumble during a dance. We lose our footing and the rest of ourselves come tumbling down like a messy domino effect. With skill, we can learn to make the stumbling part of the dance that is our lives.

     For these reasons, conscious breathing and proper posture are so important to me.

     I want to be connected to my body. My body isn’t something for me to ignore – I’m living in it. I want to treat it right, feed it well, make it feel good, and enliven it. Holding healthy posture helps keep myself anchored in my body so that I'm not stuck in my mind all the time but present in all of me. At any given moment throughout a busy day, I can call

Soul Kin

     I lost my best friend yesterday. We don't know what happened to him, or how. My family called him Figaro. I didn't call him that; I didn't feel like that was his name. I gave him no name. To me, he was simply my greatest pal, my daily companion.

     Everyone agreed that he was the sweetest cat ever. I found him strange also. He let everyone and anyone pet him. He would let me pet his ears and his paw and his legs, without a care. That cat let you do anything to him. He'd just lay there and enjoy the physical attention.

     He and I had a connection that I've never had with anyone, human or otherwise. We clicked in such a natural way, as, often, words weren't even necessary for me to utter (as though he could understand me anyway). Our energies were similar, our characteristics were similar. We only ever had one common and repetitive disagreement, when he'd try "jumping" another female cat, even after she was evidently pregnant. But he was a cat and I a human. That was understandable. That cat never held a grudge; with him, neither did I.

Star Piece, Star Peace

     We often lose ourselves in our own lives. We don’t know which way to turn, which way to look. We wonder what the right thing to do is. We wonder if we’ll be okay. We lose sight of our goals in our anxiety, in our fear, in our self-destruction. We lose ourselves.

 

     Who are you? What makes you, you? Who is your authentic self?

     Within us all resides this part of self that is self-sustaining. Outside layers ebb and flow, and this

shows in our personality. Personality isn’t all it’s cut out to be. One day we’re upset, so we act snobby. Another day we’re hyperactive and vital, so we become jubilant. And yet in another day comes sorrow, so we're labeled depressed, lazy, or a party-pooper. Personality becomes a flexible mask. It’s the dance to woo that special someone, the presentation to seem likable or threatening. It’s temporary, a “you” to be outlived by time and memory. They are all upheld by emotional shifts which are caused by our surrounding environments. But we aren’t our personalities nor our emotions. We have them, but we aren’t them. I am not sadness, though I may feel sad. I am not excitement, though I may feel excited.

Containing a Tide

Change is inevitable.

Just saying those three words is enough to shift anyone from their stance and core. But that it existential reality. If you exist, you will not only experience change; you are change. Many people don't realize that they are the very thing they fear.

I won't detail how many times my life has dramatically swirled so that I'm on the ground feeling like I have to start over again. But that's the best way to forge a blade. Break down particles in the heat of desire, mold it to your will. Cool things down; inspect your progress. Break it down again. Keep molding. Keep cooling. Feed the flames with the bellows of hope.

This is tedious work. But this work of building, breaking down, and rebuilding is the work of Nature, and the work of us all, the work that is us all. It is our death and rebirth as humans, as beings of life and Spirit.

If I could keep just one of my tools of the forge, it would be to retain the consciousness that is held in my breath. I can lose desire, I can lose faith, I can lose integrity. But I will always strive to hold conscious breathe, because not too long afterwards, all those aforementioned will be mine again. I can lose my sense of self, my identity. But if I can hold onto this moment in space for just a little bit longer, I know I have made a monumental breakthrough which can not only help me but help all existence. A big responsibility held in each of us, in all our actuality that is us, I know. But that is our Great Work. Again: change is inevitable, that is reality, and if you exist, you are a thread upon that web of change. Your breath is both the silk that holds the web together and the spaces in between.

Corpuscle's Partition

Pull
Push
A beckon,
a shove
Such desire for the need to be washed
by your salty liquid

Core Dust

     Often, when our work gets difficult to the point where procession is no longer undergoing, basics can be a dear friend.

     I've fallen off my horse, the gallop having come to an immediate stop after a bad breakup four months ago. But now, the fires are rekindled, the bellows breathing, and the waters cool and clean once more. The fourge is once again up and running!


     Many times, we overlook the basics. We think, "But that's easy work. Anyone can do that. Show me the advanced stuff! Show me that pretzel yoga move! Teach me how to cast spells to turn my life around here and now! Tell me the secret to not thinking anything at all while meditating! Tell me the occult secrets!"

Half a Jewel's Twirl

Love.

Dove above.

A treasure trove.

A shift, this incessant move.

Walk.