begin again

tonight i went to a meditation workshop. i'm still smiling and anticipate doing so for many many hours, etc., to come. even before the actual speaking/partaking began i was smiling because i noticed something about myself and humans in general that was so entertaining: it seems there are those among us (me, being one in particular) who will do almost anything to avoid asking people to move or otherwise put themselves out on our account. i say this because when i stepped into the room, i looked around for a seat among the many rows of folding chairs and decided i wanted to be against the wall with a view of both the raised area where the woman leading the practice would sit and the windows out of which lush, green trees could be seen. instead of straddling the half-dozen people already sitting in the row, i flattened myself against the far wall and shimmied up to the chair where i wanted to sit, then as i angled to place my bag down and squeeze around and into it, the chair folded up and just about fell over. but i caught it in time and sat down, acting as if i meant to do that, naturally. at the same moment i saw a woman shimmying down the wall in the other direction and knock someone's backpack off one of the chairs. she smiled, as a man next to her bent to help her pick it up and almost fell out of his seat. just then another chair across the room folded in on itself and toppled over, presumably displaced by a wall shimmyer. so the ultimate goal of being unnoticed and self-sufficient was completely blown. it was all quite awesome.

conspicuousness, part two: as our first guided meditation began, and the woman leading us started to speak, i closed my eyes and started to breathe. suddenly i felt one of my breaths catch on something inside of me and a coughing fit rose up and shook me...loudly. as i tried to control myself (and avoid getting up to have to cross over the now at-least dozen people in the row), i focused as much as i could on stilling myself. just in time to hear her say "you can always begin again. and again. every moment is an opportunity to begin fresh." damn. clean slate and all, i took a clear, fresh breath and promptly began again. and again after i entertained the thought of what i was going to have for dinner. and again after i mulled over what song i might play in class tomorrow. and again once i began reflecting on how interesting it is to just breathe. and again after i let go of the thought that it's so rare that i just...breathe...in so many areas of my life. i'm clearly still beginning as i continue to write this.

breathing: such a connective moment in my existence. the breathlessness of my desires, expectations, goals. When i was fully chasing a career, i'd go from one ladder rung title to the next (assistant, assistant editor, senior editor...) as if the dowel just under my feet was on fire. when i got to the top of that particular ladder, i flung myself off thinking i'd find some peace. not so much. i also didn't find my breath. in my relations with guys, i actually held my breath while hoping this would be the one. apparently being with a woman always on the verge of turning purple and fainting from anticipation is not an invitation to get comfortable and stay awhile (and the one who did stay the longest was, i believe, quite happy to take up the airspace i willingly gave over). on money, i'm still learning how to not hyperventilate while just thinking about the stuff.

but i will say that the last few months have been the ones where my airways have been most clear. I have a job where i can breathe. no one's bellowing at me and subsequently i'm happy to be there and be working with words. in dance, i haven't been gasping for air at the end of my song. i've been more lost in the movement of my whole self. and in each of those places, i feel like i can grasp what it means to simply begin again in the moment, rather than be living out in the future where the air is nonexistent, because there's no there there yet. i'm still stepping toward the begin-again wonder of money and men, but it makes so much sense that here i am knocking over chairs in my head with the promise of beginning as many times as i want.

floating&breathing. so wonderful.