Balance, breathing and nasty wonderful thoughts encircle my head. A stinging reality, legs crossed, back straight, zoom-in, zoom-out I am taken into the vortex and quickly lost in the split of my body. Each side was pulling, tugging, vying for my attention.

 

By Debbie Lynn

Today I was cut in half.

The line was precise—vivid—and in my mind’s eye I could witness this thin separation of dark to light, completely surreal.

There was a cool shadow to the right of my body that took on the black, and a warm white light to the left that felt really good and I smiled.

Back to the breath.

The sounds around me—water kissing the hull, the roar of a floatplane, and muffled voices. I had music in my head that was trying to catch up with the music playing on my iPod, and it was drifting in and out of all the background noise. Chaos all around.

Back to the breath

Focusing on this “line” I realized the metaphor of yin/yang had been with me the last few days and I avow, “I am whole, I am kind, I am evil.” The smile rises again.

Back to the breath

Balance, breathing and nasty wonderful thoughts encircle my head. A stinging reality, legs crossed, back straight, zoom-in, zoom-out I am taken into the vortex and quickly lost in the split of my body. Each side was pulling, tugging, vying for my attention.

I focus on the line. It starts at the crown of my head, goes down my forehead and the bridge of my nose. It gets softer at the mouth and continues to the neck, chest and belly. I felt the clash, the warmth against cold and I think, “There should be lightening…maybe there is? Maybe the line is furor brewing, or maybe it is the calm after the storm?”

Back to my breath

Minutes flow, the heat turns inside and I cast judgment on my line. Do I try to make something of it or make it something else? NO. I go deeper into each segment wanting it to be seen-and-hidden all at the same time.

Impossible hungers and brilliant needs—balance please. I settle into the thirst.

Back to the breath

I hear the music, taste the sea and I avow…I am very alone in a bay filled with activity. I am a small speck in the ocean. I am becoming ambiguous and a part of the scene—vague, solid, untouched by a moon in the same position (almost full) but so very empty and the smile once again returns. A cascade of knowing rushes to me calling out my ego, my vanity, my seriousness to silliness and I recoil and awaken from the trance of this mediation.

I lose my breath

Life is so busy, so very busy and I wonder why it has to be so? This beautiful thing we all can do (meditation) is checking out, checking in, without a care or worry; it is such a gift to our “busy” and I ponder this: We can’t want too much of anything or we lose respect for the need and “too much” is the downfall of our serenity. The line—it is good. It makes boundaries that keep us real and no matter what size the line is, there is a grey area.

That is balance.

Sometimes this line makes us uncomfortable; sometimes it makes us mad. Sometimes it protects our space; sometimes it delineates ethereal places. But coming to meet every part of our being (black, white and a million shades of grey) is simply peace. Knowing we don’t have to pretend anymore. We don’t have to disguise the color that doesn’t fit because it all fits perfectly.

And I breathe this in.

True honor of being one with the All, and one with our unique lines is probably the hardest thing to do or to understand, yet if we want to be lucid and live in a transparent world, acceptance of our totality is the only way to inner happiness.

Back to the breath

We breathe for more than one reason—it is our life source, our connection and our stability. In meditation we use our breath and it takes us to the places that are hard to get to—a bit confining yet, totally free. Give yourself this gift. There is no right way, no wrong way but just a way to resolve the things that hurt or dancing in our head.

Today I was cut in half. Today I was perfectly whole.

Breathe it in.

 

Photo: (source)

Editor: Dana Gornall

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