Ladies and gentlemen, I was quite pleased with that last bit of writing, a pattern of growth and progress is becoming discernible, metaphysical plains of existence are becoming fathomable. The most important lesson to depart is awareness of breathing, all the way in, all the way out, when ever possible, especially when presented with a daunting or emotionally charged moment. Smoking tobacco is a stimulant, it’s the action of taking long, slow breaths, albeit sucking down poisons, that offers the habitual smoker that sense of relaxation. Combining slow breathing with other activities like washing the dishes, writing or sex, changes the dynamic of the activity to one where pace is understood, maintained and is quite a challenge, at first. Breathing slowly alters the nature of one’s interaction with their environment. Long forgotten nooks and crannies are expanded in the lungs, more oxygen is given to the brain, calmness comes to the heart.
Yesterday I awoke to mountains, beach, ocean, a steep hill, some young and an old eagle, star fish, and yet another group of people who seem to be fully entwined in the marijuana spirit, morning meditation got me going as I ran up the side of the a hill, running near horizontally as fast as I could, as far as I could, before tired muscles and gravity got the better of me, sending me cascading down the hill. The shirt was off in the warm sunlight as washed up trees acted as balancing beam from big rock to rock, piles of purple starfish sat waiting in a crevice, waiting, hoping the tide would return to their spot of rest, dry death being the alternative.