Awakening to this day,
I realize this is the only day.
Breathing in this moment,
I realize this is the only moment.
Oh glorious freedom!
I don’t need to lament the past
or fear the future,
because past and future are constructs of my mind—
all that exists is NOW,
everything happens in this one beautiful moment.
Let us breathe deeply, together, then—
let us awaken together.
Let us feel this freedom together,
on this day,
in this moment,
breathing this one breath.
I’ve been practicing this Wim Hof breathing video
every day for almost a week…
It’s eaten into my music time on my cushion,
but now I’m breathing more consciously—
and maybe when my breath is strong enough,
I will breathe consciously as I play my music.
I have been preparing for this moment for so long:
Where I feel totally free and at ease,
allowing myself to create authentically
from my deepest center,
letting the love of life, of presence
flow from me, radiating harmony into the world.
Today’s prompt asks us to write a concrete poem, which is a poem where the lines of words are placed in such a way to form a shape that is in some way connected to the theme of the poem. I wish I knew what uncertainty was shaped like. I’d write a poem in that shape…
The Shape of Uncertainty
It must be kind of wave like,
the shape of uncertainty, because
my uncertainty comes in waves.
Sometimes a little ripple,
sometimes a crashing, roaring tsunami,
whatever the size, the waves keep coming.
I haven’t drowned yet,
because I’ve learned to keep breathing,
catching my breath between the waves,
finding a way to draw the air into my lungs.
Someday when I look back on this
I’ll see that I stayed afloat somehow on this vast ocean.
And though my vessel is tiny, it’s sound.
Come to think of it,
aren’t all emotions shaped like waves?
Love, anger, joy…don’t they all come and go,
uncontrollable, unplanned, vast like the ocean?
I’ll just keep breathing.
Hey friends. I’m late to the game, catching up on the last few days. I liked the prompt for day 8 over at the NaPoWriMo site, which included links to multiple Twitter accounts that focus on the work of individual poets and which send lines of their poetry (Poetry Bots!) into the universe.
Poem Beginning With a Line By Sylvia Plath
I am not ready for anything to happen.
I am not ready for anything not to happen.
I am, quite simply, not ready.
Not ready for life or for death.
Not ready for sickness or for health.
Not ready for a Pandemic.
Not ready to go back to “normal.”
I am not ready, but I can still breathe.
Yes. I’ll breathe in now.
Yes. I’ll breathe out now.
I guess I’m ready for something.
I’m ready to breathe.
The ground is shifting constantly,
never the same,
so how can I build anything right now?
Maybe it’s time to let things fall apart,
and see what’s left
after the winds of change blow through.
I’d like to have some kind of plan,
a goal, a vision,
something that helps me feel like there’s a future
and I have some control over the outcome…
But this is a war humans have been fighting
since they knew they could fight
and where has it gotten us?
Maybe I’m better off simply breathing
and allowing myself to be right here, right now.
Breathing and being.
Yeah. That has a nice ring to it.
Don’t worry about getting it right
because you can’t get it wrong…
Just make it through this.
You don’t have to try to be good,
because you can’t be bad,
you are a human being…
Just make it through this.
Throw out all goals except this one:
To breathe slowly and deeply
as many times as I can remember,
through all the days of my life.
The outcome is assured.
You’ll make it through this.
Look around you.
Don’t try to figure it all out.
The moment is always changing,
and the understanding you have now
is different from the one you will have tomorrow.
It is enough to just be who you are.
It is enough to just breathe.
Look around you.
When I believe my thoughts I am anxious.
When I connect with reality, I am at peace.
I have known this for a long time,
and now more than ever it holds true.
It is so humbling to admit that all of my training
couldn’t prepare me for this reality.
Yoga is fun and neat when you’re sitting in a room
with 30 people, learning how to teach people yoga
in a thriving studio on a normal day.
No one prepared me for a Pandemic.
No one told me how it would feel
when I couldn’t see my students anymore.
No one explained what it would be like
to go into a store and find empty shelves.
No one described the despair I’d feel
contemplating bringing my children up
during a widespread economic collapse.
After so many years of encouraging my students to breathe,
I find myself holding my breath.
After teaching my students how to stay present,
I find myself feeling anxious about the future.
After guiding my students into deep relaxation,
I feel anxiety alive in my body.
I remember that this will one day be a memory.
When this is all over,
I’d like to be able to tell the story about how I realized
I could just fully relax,
how I spent my time creating wonderful things
and then the Pandemic was over,
and I could look back on the quarantine
feeling proud that I stayed strong…
I guess I better start breathing
and staying present,
just like I’ve been teaching all these years.
I keep reminding myself to breathe
a little more deeply
to soften my belly
and open my heart
and trust in this moment
My mind wants to learn a new way
where relaxation is the norm.
My body remembers some ancient trauma
that my grandmother’s grandmother’s grandmother remembered
and it needs to be convinced
that it’s safe to relax.
This opening into being has no beginning and no end, only limitless bliss for those
brave enough to walk the path.
May I be blessed with courage to allow Spirit
to express its fullness through me,
serving love in open hearted devotion,
relaxed into the deepest breath of the cosmos.
I’d like to get to the point
where the average experience
of being alive feels safe and pleasant,
rather than anxiety provoking and heavy.
Breathing, looking around,
really seeing and feeling the truth
that all is well,
my peaceful life isn’t as far
as my mind would have me believe.