Sunday, August 11, 2013


There is space in between the moments like Corpse Pose, where the blood in my veins whispers and regenerates my insides, my being, to be what I need to.

Space can be uncomfortable and unfamiliar, almost similar to a pesky mosquito that just won't go away, though my perception of its annoyance is my own and not the truth.

My breath falters when there is no space in between the moments of action, and, yet, I will again try to attempt to live life like there is no need for space or breath.

A series of events have propelled me into a new way of living, which, with practice and time, brings about a willingness to settle in the space and breath, to find peace when the lightening-problems scorch my sky and rip it into shreds.

Of course, my lightening-problems depend on how I see them. Space and breath give me a chance to gather truth and light, a means of seeing through the burnt embers and smoke to what lays beyond, a path worth trudging.