A True Letting Go

A true letting go: 

it's not the breath by itself so much, as it is its surrender and the trust of its return. This is all of life really, a rhythm of what's given, sustaining, and released without my hold. But the breath itself is so personal, intimate in the ease of its caress. Every breath is a true letting go, a death practice, without any sure guarantee that another will appear. My faith is in the natural order of things, that my next breath will always come until the very last is given.  

my faith is in the moment.

every bit of life occurs now, in some form of rhythm, motion and the apparent stillness of what's to come - life is always at once. The breath itself is immediate, at most times barely noticed in its arrival and release. Yet it's force is vital, my connection to the world through its unseen way. The breath, like every aspect of life, comes without promise, it's given away in mystery, and it's every return is a form of grace. My surrender is each last breath, and in this way, for however long their stay - I am truly sustained by grace and mystery. 

each breath has an instant of between, a just before moment of it's next arrival, a depth of quiet, the stillness of my world. Here, is my point of notice, a checkpoint of some kind, that if nothing else occurred right now, not another breath, nor one more heartbeat - the world would still continue on, mystery would reclaim me as its own, my time of grace complete. 

through that moment of between...

I see life's gift. 

~

Peace, Eric