Category: Air

Posted in Air

Buddha Breath

Posted on by J.A.B. 
there goes my mind again
running through old arguments
a well-worn path I circle down into,
my body tenses up, preparing for a fight
that has already happened

muscles tight, ready to run
caught inside this memory,
a grainy movie my mind has pulled up 
form the past, the script cannot be altered 
the ending remains the same
Yet somehow, I can still feel the fear

This is not the present moment

Trying a new practice of mindfulness
Like the Buddhists, I simply watch 
the memories as they slip in
naming them for what they are
angry ghosts of my past life

I remind myself to breath out
naming the memory for what it is
taking a breath I remind myself 
it has no effect on this moment
I try to feel my feet on the floor
to connect to what is here right now

tuning into my breath
reaching inside myself for compassion
I try to feel my way into the present
to the dishes in the sink, my hands in 
soapy water, listening to radio as
waves of sound fill the kitchen 

breathing out I bring myself back



	







	
	
	

		Posted in Air, journal		
Within the Pause
		

			Posted on  by J.A.B.					

			


	

		

Within the pause… this quiet place in time where all the cars stay parked on Monday mornings. Cafes are closed, everything is closed, the whining din of the city has been hushed. Birds song fills the rainy spring air, emboldened squirrels plant their bums in the middle of our urban garden-scapes. There is a surprising sense of relief. There is no where I have to be… not really. My day to day has been paused










When I wake up each day is stretched out before me now, like a canvas awaiting the stroke of my brush. With in the pause there is time for reflection. Questions I seldom have a moment to ask come boldly forward. Why do I feel I need to do it all? Am I enjoying the picture of life I am drawing? What is it that I find necessary? Do I even miss that?  In this new world of limited movement, and closed doors I am finding a new freedom.





There is no guilt in not doing things right now, I can just choose to sit, or read, or play. I have no schedule. Its like those long summer days at home with the kids before school and lunches. Like living in a vacation day, filling my curios mind with things I enjoy. And I am seldom bored. I think I really dislike the routine of school. I dislike packing lunches most of all, and empathize with the kids feelings of monotony toward sandwiches.





I have spent the last few years starting and re-starting over with the changes that have been my journey. Right now, it seems this unique thing has happened, this moment of open potential; where I can experience my life devoid of everything I have taken on and signed up for over the past decade. What do I want the memories painted of the canvas of my life to resemble? With in this moment I am choosing.



		
	
	







	
			

			
				
							
		

	
	

		Posted in Air		
Echos
		

			Posted on  by J.A.B.					

			


	

		

its early, crisp air pinches my cheeks
the stars have gone to sleep and
the moon casts a silver hue on the frosted ground,
the world around us slumbers
 
in the dark of winter mornings
children transform in to a team,
as they layer on their gear
sleep falls away from their eyes,
they come alive as their skates
scrap across the ice
 
the echoes of the arenas sooth,
rinsing away the outside world,
in this quiet hour boy become athletes
dream are formed in this cold forge
 
and men become boys again,
the lonely sound of ice on metal
the echo of a puck against the boards
like church bells calling us home






	







	
	
	

		Posted in Air		
Card Houses
		

			Posted on  by J.A.B.					

			


	

		

cards placed in rows





little walls and thin towers.





the Queen of hearts sits at the center





       unaware





that it is all illusions.





 A fancy tale written by the one-eyed jack.





With the slightest of breezes





Everything Falls





           Collapsing inward





j.a_b





photo credit unknown






	







	
	
	

		Posted in Air		
Stormy Weather
		

			Posted on  by J.A.B.					

			


	

		















When even crying doesn’t help.
 Sobs ricochet through my body, vice grips
 clamping my skull
  
 there is no release… not even tears
  
 it can be felt coming on, like 
  a Storm collecting on the horizon
 Rolling in, Blocking the light 
 Filling the sky 
  
 grief cannot be outrun
  
 encased in the wild winds of 
 Regret and Anger
 nothing to do but surrender
  
 let the storm rip through my soul