[from a little book, “Anapanasati 2.0,” I am working on]

woman-face-down-on-bed-by-whatmegsaid-flickrYou are a vessel, a vehicle.  For consciousness, for spirit. Through space, through time.  Through me, through you.

We ask ourselves: “What is life?”  Safest answer I found is: “Journey.”  An information-processing journey: each of us is a living coordinate of Cosmos trying to understand itself.

Fall face down into your bed, turn your head sideways so as to not suffocate.  Anapanasati mind doesn’t mind this posture.  Pranayama mind says: lay flat on your back, or sit in a lotus, main thing – keep the diaphragm open.  Anapanasati mind doesn’t mind constricting diaphragm: let this ship of breathing shipwreck against an obstacle or two.

As you lay down on your bed, look around at this mess around you: a pile of clothes, bed sheets that need to be changed, dust on the window blinds.  All this – the mess, the chaos, the hustle of existence – is what we plow through… waves, ripples, reefs, barnacles of experience. You are a vessel, a vehicle, a means to an eternal end: a searching mind of the Cosmos itself.

Pranayama mind goes to school: sits straight, learns lessons of breathing.  Anapanasati mind dodges school, hiding out in the school yard, lighting up cigarette butts of existence wherever it finds them.  Pranayama mind is studious, taking notes, rehearsing.  Anapanasati mind kicks the can of control down the road and lives in the agony-ecstasy of the here-and-now.  A different kind of yoga.

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