To Breathe is to Create is to Live

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As long as we create,
We have the capacity
To be free
(I know how far
we need to come
before we can create
a world in which
everyone can choose
their freedoms,
before the songs we create
are not only our chains,
our suffering, released).
It cannot stop here,
In calamity.
We must examine
The tools we have.
We live. We breathe.
As long as we have breath,
We have the capacity
To create.
How many breaths
Have we missed
With our inattention?
Take a deep inhale.
Is your breath not like
a growing tree
rooted in the very depths
of you, grounding you
to this plane,
as it arcs upwards and out,
filling every part of you,
from spine to limbs
to fingertips, and the top
of your head, and beyond?
Are you not making yourself
anew each time you fill
Your body with the force of life,
With whatever you’ll allow in?
And the outbreath,
A psalm of celebration
Of what you have made,
Of allowing it to set,
Of releasing what no longer serves,
In the name of beginning
Again, and again, and again,
And each time, don’t you know,
Can change everything.
 
– Tammy Takahahshi
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Breath of Life

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Every breath can carry us

Around the world and back,

If that’s where we want to go.

The slow, languid inhale,

What possibilities! Filling space –

Moving light and hope

Through angular joints

And the softer folds

Of this universe our body.

Inviting friends to join us –

Anticipation, awe, curiosity.

Move with the breath,

Explore what you are made of.

At the very top of the breath,

A summit, a hovering cloud,

The full moon at midnight,

Floating, still nestled among us.

Allow for circulation;

Every part of you tethered

To the heart of your intention.

Breathe out, slow, sure,

Controlled by not controlling,

The breath does what it does,

It finds its way out.

It is a different world now,

That you are surrendering to,

That you are left with

Inside your sacred being.

You have let it all go.

You have given everything.

You’ve loved in. You’ve love out.

You’ve seen how love carries you.

 

Why Do We Dream of Home?

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Why do we dream of home?

Why do we long to return,

Somewhere both near and far,

Somewhere on the path ahead,

Leading us from behind,

Where the images have

Faded to wisps, to dark?

Why do we dream of home

Like we are in need of saving,

Like there is a nest, a shelter,

Loving arms to harbor us

When we’ve become strangers

To the deepest parts of self?

Where can home possibly be,

After we have searched

The corners of the world

Looking for a place to rest,

Having combed every part

Of the recesses of mind,

To discover what is true,

And what can be good?

When we will know, finally,

That home is the deep breath

Of all the oceans heaving,

A breathing in and breathing out

That allays the fear

Of having lost ourselves,

Because there is no way,

Any longer, to deny

The four walls, floor and roof

Of the home we have lived in

From the moment of our birth,

And that will carry us,

And let us live and pray,

Lose and find, come and go

As many times as we need to,

And will welcome us back

To ourselves without hesitation:

This body, our aspirations,

The joy of our embodied now.

– Tammy Takahashi

 

The Art of Meditation

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breathe in –
breathing becomes laboured
snagging and catching before the end
 
breathe out –
the breath becomes a cry
caught on a gasp of surprise
 
sit tall –
the spine aches from holding
stories thousands of years old
 
be soft –
i feel not softness but threadbare fragility in
bone and skin that threaten collapse
 
i am falling –
but in the falling, an acute awareness
of what i’ve neglected so long
 
i am restless –
i have within me infinite little pieces
that have been struggling to be heard
 
i am suffering –
i have awakened to brilliant depths
of what it means to be alive and trying
 
i am human –
i will ache and burn as i sit with each one of us
feeling a unity in all our pain but also our triumphs
 
i am learning –
every moment, every breath in, breath out
is a change, a movement, a new leaf born. – TS

Do Not Be Afraid

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Breathe in peace.
Breathe out peace.
 
I do not know where
the breath comes from,
nor where it goes.
 
I do not know
how the words arise,
nor where they land.
 
A lifetime spent learning
is no preparation
for the journey of knowing.
 
Sometimes I fall
under the weight of words,
the vehicle of my lessons,
 
Their ability to
sear right through me
as though they had weight.
 
What am I afraid of?
That beyond the words,
A gate is ready to fly open?
 
That back through
the layers of spacetime
lies an origin of purity?
 
Why are we so afraid
of what is pure and benevolent,
and always open to us?
 
Breathe peace in and out.
Rest in stillness
so as to watch fear go. – TS

Expansion

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i can imagine
the circle breathing
taking that sweet
inhalation to allow
even more if its
beautiful, rounded
shape to fill
space.
who knows
what has always
been in the
circle, that
will reveal itself
on the wings
of such
expansion.
i breathe in
and imagine
each cell a
full, fluid
vibrant circle
growing, as
i allow myself
to have
presence,
allow for the
splendor of
my being,
and for the
endless
possibility
of discovering
the magic
in each
and every part. – TS