Skip to main content


If you read my last post, you encountered my notion that the breath points to life more than a steadily beating heart, that, in fact, the beat could go awry, but as long as the breath remains, it affirms life in each moment--not to mention that the breath is something we can voluntarily take control of, unlike the heart.

I find it so profound that the breath is what bridges the conscious and the subconscious. If we forget to breathe, it is done for us, or we can consciously do it.

Breath by definition affirms life--so, if it bridges conscious to subconscious, would it be going too far to say that breath by definition confirms existence beyond what we know as life? That breath is symbolic of existence?

So, I wrote the Heart Attack post to embody the essence of a literal experience I had with my own body, where I felt sure that my heart organ could not sustain what was happening to it--and I was left only with the breath to carry me through the intensity, which lasted hours.

I was able to experience this spinning out of the heart much like I did the dream about my daughter dying: fully fused with the fear of the experience, but aware of an observer part of me active, telling me to breathe and to focus on the breath (the idea of which came from the dream, to use in a real life application! yipee!).

There was no choice but to be with the fear that my body was breaking down, and to surrender to it, and in this moment by moment surrendering, to attempt to access the observer that pointed to something else coexisting with and through the fear. And in every moment there was the breath affirming that life was still present, even if it felt precarious.

I've been asking for help with integrating myself into my body, and experiences have been abounding at full speed!

I've mentioned before that I've always felt very separate from my body, like I was just floating somewhere high above it, and it was merely weighing me down--something I needed to drag around with me in this life. As a result it has always been easier for me to identify with a realm outside of my physical body, that is not hindered by physical form. Meditation has been relatively easy for me to drop into, because it has been a way of joining with that floating self, without needing to pay too much attention to the body.

This way of being in life has left me feeling in many ways apathetic to life, ungrounded in it-- certainly slave to my emotions--never much wanting to invest beyond what I have to, because it feels harder than it is worth.

Yet, a part of me must be yearning for more connection to life, because it is coming. I am learning that much of my resistance has come from aspects of myself in opposition--being a highly spiritual being forcing myself to adopt a foreign feeling way to fit into the physical world. Now I am finding that there doesn't need to be such a tug-of-war, there can be integration.

So, here is what I am learning:

Body and spirit + interactions with mind interface design (perfect in its f**k'd-upness)=integration=union with Self=authenticity=opening for union with others in more meaningful ways=more investment in this funny thing called life=reinforcement of the entire process.

So, perhaps there is a method to the madness. If you allow it, there is a natural temperance that wants to happen; a balancing. The whole encompasses the dark and the light. The balancing leads you to bring up in you, and work with what has been suppressed, or what patterns are prevalent, whether it be dark or light. It uses them both like yoga uses contraction and relaxation of the muscles, supported by the breath, to open and balance the body.

Little by little I am learning what it is like to feel integrated into the body. I am noticing how my level of integration directly coincides with my level of investment in physical experience.

In other words, the more I integrate my spirit with the body, the more I feel grounded into daily life, instead of floating in my imagination into other galaxies, which has been in some ways, just another form of escapism.

These aspects of me are actually making friends, and there are hints that they can nurture one another.

Perhaps in this exploration and cultivating of integration of body, mind, spirit, we find a further gateways into ourselves, our deepest beliefs about the physical, and an opening into dealing with denser physical energy in different ways--breaking through old patterns. We begin to conceive of the mind-blowing idea in quantum physics, that nothing is really there, that it's all energy, and despite the density of matter, it can be reconfigured.

So, the breath points to the simple truth of being-ness, and anything else in reality is just our beliefs, perceptions and projections in action.

Mostly I am learning to surrender, surrender, surrender (a surrender not unlike that of finding out that this moment really is your last breath-how would that feel?) to the unfathomably powerful mind (seriously, I am humbled by its power) that will always be there shape shifting to best suit your malleability in the moment, to give you the most beautiful discourse on why you still want to suffer.

Yes, I am learning to surrender like a baby, to understand like a baby, to let go like one, and to cleave to the warmth of a universal mother that I've pretty much ignored until now.


  1. "Yes, I am learning to surrender like a baby, to understand like a baby, to let go like one, and to cleave to the warmth of a universal mother that I've pretty much ignored until now."

    Ahh...yes, Brooke. Surrender like a baby, how nice that sounds-the "universeal mother" will catch you in her warm, safe, mommy arms. It's safe to let go.

  2. Blessings on you inspirted body and your embodied spirit! As always, thanks for sharing the journey!

  3. Hey soul sista,

    Firstly, I want to acknowledge just how far you have travelled since starting out on this journey. You are a miracle.

    There is something complete about meditation, and the quiet knowingness that flows from the space between the sounds. This can cause unrest, as the mind is no longer willing to tolerate delay.

    Brooke; keep walking in the direction of truth, with the soul intention of healing those troublesome beliefs. This mass detox is an essential part of the undoing.

    In my experience; whenever, we muster up the courage to shed another layer, we take another step closer to God.

    'Your image of your-self cannot withstand the Will of God.You think that this is death, but it is life. You think you will be destroyed, but you are saved.'-ACIM

    Christ has not lost sight of you my friend.

    Love Nige:-)


Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

RIP Poltergeist

After over ten years of an incredibly intense journey as a seeker, I find myself lying fallow. Taking a rest. When I first discovered this uncomfortable fact — threat to the hamster wheel that was my spiritual rat race, I surrendered for dead, but something wouldn’t let that fact sit as truth. I was lying fallow, but this implied that after a good rest, fruit could follow. This had nothing to do with death.

I am humbled at the courage it takes to write. For many years I kept a blog read by only a handful of very supportive people, and you’d think that after sharing writing for so long with perfect strangers, writing would have gotten easier. Actually, it got harder. In fact, at one point I was so paralyzed, I just stopped writing altogether. It was just too vulnerable. There was no trust there anymore, and I attributed any courage I had had to my youthful ignorance.

However, life continues, as it inevitably does, and there is still this pang to write, and it grows stronger and strong…

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on
Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, magic for the neighborhood…


The other night I had a vivid dream that my youngest daughter had died.

There is a time when I would have been unable to even bring this to consciousness, let alone write about it. It has always been my deepest, darkest fear, to lose a child, and this fear has always been there prominently with my youngest.

In the dream I could conceptualize her under her grave, which happened to be in a dark, jagged cavern of colorless rock and stone--no lush lawn, no flowers, just a gaudy gravestone, that glowed, like a tacky neon sign in Vegas. I found myself digging frantically in the earth under her grave marker to retrieve her little bear, so much loved by her in her five short years, that it is no less 'real' than the Velveteen Rabbit.

I found the bear mixed with rubble above where she was buried, brushed it off, and clasped it to my heart, as if it was the last part of her I could keep with me. I pressed the little bear hard to my nose, sniffing for remnant smells of my daughter. The smel…