Remembering to breathe

This free edition of The Morning Five takes about eight minutes to listen to,. It offers a variation on the longer format of meditations in the Towards Emptiness section, a group of longer sittings available for paid subscribers only.

Towards Emptiness is aimed at a practical extension of awareness deeper into Being, and intended as the beginning of a path towards increased concentration of one’s inner energy.

I have a wish 
to become more centered and grounded in my life
so that I'm not pulled in every direction 
by the things that happen to me 
and the way that I react to them. 

In order to do this, 
I need to find a part of myself 
that has gravity in it. 

That binds me here to the life I am in. 
A magnetism that collects the nature of my being 
and roots it much lower down in my body, 
near where the soul touches God. 

This is not a place in my head, 
but a physical location that is already in me. 

I just don't know quite where it is yet. 

Knowing that, I begin a search for it, 
not by thinking about it with my mind, 
but searching in the same way that the blind men 
tried to understand the elephant. 

This place with gravity in it is my inner elephant, 
and I am blind within myself. 

I have been told about the elephant, 
but I have a wish to understand it more directly. 

And so, I begin in the same way 
that every blind man or woman begins 
with the sense of inner touch with sensation. 

And I approach this unknown creature with intimacy, 
letting go of my fear 
of being in a deeper and closer relationship with myself. 

I approach the elephant with intimacy, 
this strange and foreign creature
much bigger than me— 
my inner life and being. 

And I reach out within the darkness 
and agree to use my sensation 
to begin to touch this creature.

First to define the outlines of its mass, 
then to know how the skin of my being feels, 
coming into a closer and closer relationship. 

I discover that in this place, the blind man and the blind woman 
can touch the elephant, not with their hands 
so much as with the breathing. 

And to my surprise, 
as I turn my attention towards the breathing, 
I see the way in which the outward breath 
brings a fine substance into my extremities, 

my hands, 

my feet. 

A fine substance which deposits itself in my legs and my arms. 

I begin to remember that I have a spine 
with a base and a place where it meets the skull. 

And already, through this organ of sense called breathing, 
I understand that I have more than eyes to see
or ears to hear. 

I have breathing and sensation with me 
to help me form a more definite connection 
with my inner being. 

I agree with myself to keep this treasure close to me 
and to take it forth into the day with me 
so that at any moment 
when outer life tries to drag me forth 
into the vortex of its subjective nature 

I can return to the gravity 
and the objective sensation of the body 
by remembering to breathe.