(flowing like a river) Choose~calm~joy… make~space… breathe~ with~ease… join~the~flow…
“Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off toward the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water.” Hopi Message
Space is a metaphor for breath, love and presence. Making space is our responsibility. The ability to respond spaciously, breathfully and lovingly from the present – to our own knee-jerk-reactions.
When I went to the funeral of an old friend who died last week, I prepared to read a poem that I recorded a while ago Love, Choice & Chance. I had an idea of the service and expected that at some point I will be called to offer my poem. When I arrived to the funeral it seemed that the Rabbi had a different idea, and that’s where my B r E a z e work started.
The Rabbi was on the clock. He had limited time to conduct the service. I thought that he did his job but without much Joy Of Being. I had a different idea of how I would conduct the service If I were the rabbi. I would go for honoring and celebrating the juicy personality of my friend, (see picture bellow..) rather than reciting Hebrew prayers in a manner that felt automatic and without much feeling. I looked at the casket of my friend, and could’t feel him there. I could see him making a mouth- gestures that we would often exchange, when words couldn’t quite cut it. ”Darlin, you’ve got to be kidding me”
Here comes the part of making space for struggling with the way it is. Given the circumstances, someone made an effort to organize this funeral in the best way they knew how. While I may not approve of it, (which is OK) my job is to honor and respect the way it is – first, and make space for my own reaction. That is If I want to live in a sacred manner and in celebration. Be present. Be love.
I chose to follow my calm~joy… made space in my breath for my reaction of struggle & anxiety, found ease in my breath, and joined the flow. I let go of the shore of my constricted reaction, and woke up from the reactive trance I got triggered by & kept my eyes open and my head above the water, by surrendering the struggle & anxiety to the breath.
When five of us friends rode back in the limousine from the graveyard to the city, I pulled out my poem and read it. There was a feeling of calm-joy, honoring and celebration. It was authentic, present, and loving. I felt that I did my job by listening to life’s call rather than to my head. I felt Richard was cheering us up.
