15 February 2012

Meeting death

it has been ten days since the last time I was able to draw in a painless breath. my mucus filled lungs rasp quietly underneath my chest which feels as if it was caving in on my heart. I try to breathe as slowly as possible, consciously controlling the muscles around my throat and chest. spasms of involuntary coughs come and go, stirring and stressing the vast amounts of toxic goo within me. I know the inflammation that pneumonia is can spread from the lungs to the heart.

unable to move, I lay drooling on my bed. like satori that is just a blink of an eye away for each of us, so does my well-being appear to be only a realization away. yet, I could die like this is the only realization I have had in hours, and as such it seems only to worsen my condition - I am powerless, numb and indifferent in the face of death. the recent death of my father taught me that life of those once loved continues.

I open my eyes and stare at the wall. my distorted vision makes it appear as if it was meters away, though I know I could touch it with the palm of my hand - if I could.

the surface of my eyes begins to gather a layer of an unknown liquid, not tears. soon I find myself staring at a blurred image of a white sky, arching above a lake which surface trembles to the rapid beat of my suffocating heart. slowly, the wavering lake soothes, making me able to see the white skies clearly from underneath.

“welcome back to the abyss, kid! you died again, did you?”
“well, you wouldn't be here if you were alive now would you, kid?”
“oh. god.”
“yes. how long is it since the last time we talked? over a year it must be in your time, kid.”
“are you mad with me? I know I went off with the best of your advice only to end up dead again.”
“mad, me? never! besides, nothing could make me happier than having you dead. you are my favorite kid, kid.” 
“I recognize that shine in your eyes.”
“you do? what does it tell you, kid?”
“it tells me that the body is the placenta of the soul, like the earth is the cradle of humanity. and here I am, born, grown, dead and transcended. and here you are, one with me, ready to reveal timeless truths.”
“my, my! you truly have grown, kid! one day you will overcome us silly gods, and go on creating an abyss of your own! now, let us realize what you came here to realize so you can wake up alive and well!”

the words spoken seem to merge into a single sound, a sound of a song vibrating through my every iota. a wave of realization sweeps over me, merging me with itself - we become real as a haze of purple and dark blue. now, floating as and in a formless hue, I have all the time in the world to think. 

during the years I have done yoga I have seen my body change in reflection of internal changes within my mind. I have seen how postures, gestures and expressions have been cultivated in accordance to the internal qualities developed. I guess I am lucky to have begun doing yoga as a kid, thus having my growth as a part of its practice.

a few years ago I noticed my body reacting involuntarily to my thoughts through slight changes in posture, spasms, even thoughts. in time I realized that my body has a mind of its own. 

through speakers reproducing the long ago recorded voice of terence mckenna, the concept of archaic revival has floated to my knowledge in the past weeks. if such a process is really unraveling around us, then my body is the perfect documentation of it. lucid dreams since I was five, yoga since I was nine, naturally occurring psychedelics since I was thirteen. all merely attempts by the wise body to wake me up to its true nature.

floating formless, I remember the body I no longer possess, realizing how perfectly it followed an ancient program throughout its growth from the tiniest cell. a general sample of a human body, yet the energies flowing through it from the ether made it unique in its becoming. the individual form of it was the representation of hues of energy such as these I now float in.

suddenly, I recall the condition which I left behind - the pneumonia. like all other processes of the body, it must have been the result of similar kinds of intangible hues. the energies of my heart!

the hues of purple and dark blue begin to dense, forming the song of a final realization screeching through the ether - a broken heart is a poor metaphor. what really happens is corrosion due to imbalanced energies around the heart, the organ, the material and the ethereal.

convulsing, I gain consciousness on the floor by the bed, violently coughing out a bloody lump of mucus. my whole body trembles as waves of cold sweat sweep up and down my back. water running from my eyes and my lungs contracting in purifying agony, I look at the lump of goo on a napkin. it reminds me of a placenta-a-a...

the word rings a trigger, a reminder of a dream I just saw. did I die?

as I breathe in with force I can feel myself able to use the air, to live off it again. gasping, I damn my foolishness in letting my heart leak, and realize that the first step in healing it is forgiving.

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