Eventually, I hope that we come into ourselves and find unison.
The cold creeps into my door some nights.
It happens seemingly as the pain seeps into my being slowly as the night turns to morning – and in comes the Sunlight.
Taunting me with the day.
Because my income doesn’t just come, no. I have to make it happen to find my own way. Piece by piece. Stride by stride. I take myself down this long run. My body comes along for the ride. Along, we trot. Alone, we’ve fought. For nothing more than to stay alive.
Down the vacant, dark roads, we look for a place to flourish, to prosper, to call our own. But this old body of mine and I are sometimes divorced. Our journey is coarse. We aim to “stay the course.” But that’s just an old cliché that’s not always possible. This path of ours cannot be forced.
We will feel no remorse for our attempts to live life on our own terms. Mistakes were made, but we take responsibility. We allow ourselves accountability so that we remain peaceful and never fall into being deceitful, not to ourselves, nor to any other being.
With practice, the mind and body may become one. Perhaps finally ending our tireless search for meaning. In this world and in this life, may our unison be our ultimate teaching. Learning to exist in this present moment. We follow a calmer, steadier pattern of breathing.
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the mindful comedown.