Tag Archives: dying

longing is a secret door

8 Feb

We only need to long

from our lower bellies

and our furnace hearts,

not from the jumpled frenzy of our thoughts.

Each moment

is the longing for breath,

and blood in veins

to carry what the breath brought in –

to keep us alive to long some more.

 

However, we are thinking animals

who have wallpapered over desire

with complex patterns.

We’ve forgotten where

impulse

comes from.

At the bottom of all complexity,

we can codify.

Tell me, is this list accurate?

Humans desire:

  1. to keep on breathing
  2. to pleasure the flesh
  3. to distract from the horror that comes from knowing we will die
  4. to keep on breathing

 

However,

breath will end; it will.

(enormous, this!)

Then and only then,

desiring the air of another realm

will pull us out of this life —

and though I can not prove anything to you,

I practice breathing and ending breath both;

for when my moment comes,  I desire ease.

I imagine our work on this larger breath can be gifted

to whomever needs it ~ when.

Use it with my blessing,

for I love you

in this breath.

 

 

dream

1 Jun

in my dream, we are walking and talking in a strange place then we are riding a train, and talking, waiting for a meal at a large table.

Who are WE?

I am with some people I know well, though I cannot name them.  I think Don and Alison may have been there.  Maybe some more of you here.  We are talking about spiritual things.  We are pointing out the clouds in the sky next to a bridge over water to each other and  saying clever and deep things.

Suddenly, there seems to be a crash and much discomfort and death.  I am talking with someone, though I am in terrible pain.  I say, my eyeball is half ripped out, and I cannot breath.  I am gasping and my lungs and vocal cords are making a terrible, desperate noise.  I say, no words about spirit or beauty mean a thing unless they are helpful when you cannot breath and the body is in ruins.  I say, all spirit talk is only good if it can help me leave this body – help me die – when there is no grace to be had, but only pain.  How do I learn to stop breathing? Stopping the breath is bloody hard – it is a struggle – it is drowning.  Are we ready to drown?  We should talk about that instead of the pretty clouds – and then I woke with an urgency for this.  I have an urgency to practice dying upon waking that has not left, though soon, I know, I will go back to being transfixed on bird songs, flowers and clouds.  :0

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