Breath

Looking back, my journals have had the tendancy to be rather selfish. I'm always talking about some arbitrary "drama" in my life that has me at a loss. But today I did a good bit of thinking. I don't know, I suppose it really started last night. Actually... it happened as a result of a series of events.

Now I have the disposition to think on a regular basis. It's what I like to do when nothing else is going on. Sometimes, especially lately, my life gets full of clutter, hum, and buzz. It is during those times that my deep thinking is few and far between. I am medicated to an extent by flashing lights, sudden bursts of harmonic sounds, and different interesting smells and flavors. It is very "instnatanious" living, I think would be the best way to describe it. But my ascention back to a level of higher thought actually began in my voice lesson training on Tuesday. My instructor was teaching me about the correct method by which to breath. He explained that as infants we breath correctly, letting air into our lower abdomon which allows our stomach to rise. It is only after cultural inflections on how we should carry ourselves that we learn to breath in the wrong manner. We start to suck air into our chests, heaving up and down. I think having asthma growing up only made it worse. If there were anything that would make you heave air into your chest, it would be asthma. So basically, I breath wrong. Now for the past two days, I've really been focusing on retraining myself. I've gone above and beyond what he asked me to do. I didn't feel like achieving correct breathing whenever I drove in my car would amount to any reasonable experience at all. So I've been pretty much constantly focused on it, which has been driving me a bit crazy, but I'm making progress. What I'm finding is that when I breath with my stomach, I can't get the full amount of air that I would like without stretching discomfort in my abs. I realize, however, that this is simply a result of me having not breathed properly in almost 22 years (if ever, considering asthma). But today I managed to make much greater strides in my breathing than yesterday, so I shall continue until it is no longer a mental effort. If anything, it is relaxing to just focus on how you breath. I learned that last night. I picked up Viking's "Tai Che for Dummies". He said he wanted to get into it, but he had never bothered to read it before, so I borrowed it from him simply because I was intrigued. I started reading from it last night and it discussed the basic principles of Tai Che. The first and foremost principle is tranlated as the "Ultimate Superior" and is... breathing correctly. It is, and I kid you not, the exact same principle of breathing as one would learn to sing well. This held my interest so I began to read on. It said that it's primary focus was on mindful movement. It teaches you to think out your body's movements and coordinate them with correct breathing to develope the most energy efficient, relaxing, and natural forms of movement. After taking in some of the readings and then matching it to my own posture and form, I realized that I really am "up tight". I mean I've had people tell me that before, but I never thought much of it. So for the most of today I was working on matching my movements to efficient breathing. Basically, when ever you move out, you exhale, and when ever you pull in, you inhale. Try it for a while, you'll see what I'm talking about. Just slow movement with deep breaths.

So then tonight I decided to go to the coffee shop, get some tea, and read for a while. I started reading from my sociology textbook. I took from that mostly that the world is screwed up, not following the most peaceful and cooperative of practices in humanity. I also gathered that a great deal of what Karl Marx had to say wasn't stupid, but rather missunderstood by overzealous cult leaders like Lennon and then spread to the rest of us as such. But that reading lasted for as long as I could tolerate. Whenever I read things like that my mind tends to wander around aimlessly lamenting the world's problems until I fall so deep into hopelessness that the weight of it leads me to put the book down. So, to cope, I picked up the next book I have to (or rather 'want to') read by Donald Miller entitled "Searching for God Knows What". Out of all of the books I have ever read, this author, to me, is the most identifiable to how I think and feel. That's not to say that he's right all of the time, but then, neither am I. I just like reading a book that articulates exactly what I feel while at the same time realizing that it has sold several copies because he and I aren't the only ones who think and feel this way. But I read about a chapter while the coffee barista feverishly cleaned the shop as if to convey a message that I, as a working class citizen, clearly understand. "Will you please leave so that I can go home early." I felt obliged to comply, so I sucked back the last cup of tea, hopped back on my bike, and peddled to the only peaceful outdoor area I know of, the Belmont quad. When I got there it was teaming with little Christian camp kids. Some would argue that these are the most moniacle breed of pre-teens. Ironically, everywhere they go they are followed by destruction. But I still managed to find a peaceful spot amidst the chaos at the base of the mansion. On the steps I pulled out the book and began reading again. I was sucked in for a while, occasionally stopping to contemplate what I had just read or to regroup my focus after some random pre-teen male yolping at the moon. But it was still peaceful. It wasn't until the call for all the kids to go to bed that the real peace began. At that time, it was about 11pm. I made my way down to a low-branched magnolia tree and found a comfortable position at it's feet. I closed my eyes, sat there peacefully, correcly breathing, and holding deep prayer and contemplation. I dare not say "meditating" because if I were to use that word, it would be assumed that I was opening myself up to evil spiritual influence (at least from a conservative Christian standpoint). But I was sitting quietly and reflectively under that tree, which is a longer way to say the "m" word, but remains theologically acceptible. It was great though. When I was done I felt so relaxed and at peace. It was almost like waking up from a deep refreshing sleep, but not. And the prayer felt more intimate and focused too. In short, I enjoyed it, and perhaps there is something to this calming breathing and mindful movement. I mean think about what kind of a society we live in. Our busy and synthetically dramatic lives hardly ever make time for us to be calm and still. It is a valuable skill to learn.

Peace and love.