Monday, July 11, 2016

Metaphor: To Be a Climber

As I climb the stairs, the long staircases that flaunt the hilly topography of Echo Park, I suck in my tummy, in breath in, out breath, a grand bellows.  I am doing my walking meditation drawing light in with all its electricity through my spinal cord til it buzzes. 

I have been doing this for two weeks and already I am not puffing and panting when I reach the top.  When  my knees start to whine, I ask them what fears they are holding, and are they frustrated with my direction?  Their pains or what are really signs of discomfort lighten up, usually about a third of the way up the stairs.   My breath deepens into my belly and a kind of a peace takes me over. 

Up my spine, then down again.  On the up/in breath I see it.  It is like these stairs, an ascending journey of taking charge of my evolution, releasing old reactions, softening my tensions, letting ancient patterns of this life and lineage fade.  It is better than psychotherapy as it scours the deepest charges from old reactions. I can access now.  The out breath refreshes and off we go again, lifting consciousness. 


I feel closer to my true nature.  

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