the presence of breath…

the presence of breath…

The presence of breath, the actual physical nature, air is molecules like any other thing is, a stone, a flowing stream, a mountain, the moon… air is one of these but we tend to forget in between beats, so I say sip the air, savor the sensation on your lips as it passes, think of the astounding mechanisms we have running on auto pilot, relish the actual feel of breath (the weight), of life as this physical substance flows in as an inner tide bringing the actual force of life to your shores, for without this, there is nothing more, there is space, a vacuum, emptiness, with breath, you are always full of the miracle, each and every pull on your bellows, from rising sun to head on pillow, and even in sleep the tide rolls on and in, exhale, inhale, this reminder is with us every second, every day – something we all, no matter who, no matter how far, something we all share in the community of humanity at large…

Notes… still trying to find my personal talisman, my way of reminding myself to really both live life and appreciate it in every moment… is that possible ? I’m trying. I have mostly failed all these years… we are programmed to think (and perhaps it is true) that if we were stupid rich we could find happiness, now, I am not saying money buys happiness, clearly not, but does it buy escape from the system at large? is it ok to be enlightened and want financial freedom? I guess that is something I can expound on that in another post…

simple philosophy.

simple philosophy.

surrounded;
celebrate the beauty and bounty
of the common miracles

of every day
life.

notes… a talisman, a reminder, I am reminded of inception, they had their own little totems to tell the real world from dreams, and what of us? we should be the same in some way, something we can see that is an instant reminder, a grounder, a soothsayer whispering in our own language in our own ear, may it be a cross, a bauble, a photo, who knows? but find something, and revel in each breath as best you can, smile, yes, we all get caught up in the rungs, myself, as guilty as any others in this regard, but I am trying to be more aware, of the literal air, every breath means the universe wanted me to exist, here, now, the why? well… I am still working on that one…

Among the Living… (stream of conch.)

Among the Living… (stream of conch.)

Photo by Nina Uhlu00edkovu00e1 on Pexels.com

Among the living
There are times I feel outside the world. Maybe by my own choosing or belief that I am the only one who understands, for surely I am, the only one that is, the only exact conglomeration of atoms at this time, this place, this stanchion in all history of the universe, but the common threads of all are what made me, just a different burst of color here and there, I think we all wish for more even beyond our miraculous existence, and who knows, maybe I have a twin out there, maybe not now, maybe not then, perhaps a thousand years in either direction, for numbers are finite, at some point that is, all things are, including myself, but how do I bind myself to this fate, to feel this rush and desire down into my hemoglobin, to my core, my soul, should I have one, the force running through me is just random circumstance? no magic to operate this primate puppet of late? perhaps… but what does the ending of that tale contemplate to fate, rather I would believe in a greater voyage, but yet, I feel anchored in the mundane, separate, distracted, locked in my own domain, a comforted prisoner in the plane of my choosing, soothing, like a bean bag chair I can melt into, a dream I can project into, but this is the living dream, regardless of circumstance, for I am better off than most, lesser than some, same at the end of the day regardless of outcome or income, so what tethers me, what can bind me to lash out into that sea, the unknown pending reality, not just the expected casualty, what more springs from behind doors, beyond perception, beyond regular-ation, a summation of stars, mulling about in a frenzy, with all the importance of the ending of time but all the importance of a meandering summer fire fly, luminescent, perhaps not so much outside, luminescent, from the inside, but how do I shine? For among the living I must go, but like a traveled river comes and goes, rocks, falls, whirlpools, traps, all there to shatter rafts, or at least test them, I am afraid to drown, but yet how else can I make it down this… this river path, bobbing to the whims or furious with paddle smacks, sometimes just to let the lazy river ride, spinning in circles in a mesmerized tide, no real progress made as the sun sets and rises into days, feet dangle, reflections mangle, hands trace, water soothes over, where are my fellow travelers, for as much as I feel different we are all floating just the same, for whom to I make a flotilla run, or a house boat appointment, or party on the banks of the shore for awhile, with like minded folks of like minded times, what shall keep me afloat, my connection, an umbilical reaction, a collateral reaction, to stay, not stray, among the living, if I have not learned now, when, if I can not turn back then, I must come to join and find a common hand…

notes… written in one stretch today @ work directly into that scion of technology, ahem, notepad, if you meet me you would say I am an affable fellow but there I times I feel isolated, and comfort in that isolation, which becomes habit in a dwelling, even mulling about the world you can be tip-toeing through the shadows of others, they just not might know, I think there is something to the summer, the sun, a reminder to bloom when you have the chance, there will be plenty of time to not be alive, worry about that later…