The end of the Mayan Calendar approaches. The international economy crashes. Protests erupt, comets pass, poles are said to shift. Arrests loom and regimes fall. Discoveries, exposures, resolves, defeats. On and on and on the news unfolds.
All night long I’ve been dealing with stressful issues, some personal, some social. And I finally reached a point of saying, enough. Enough already. That’s enough.
Enough to the stress from inside. Enough to the alarm from outside. That’s enough. No more. Enough….
Where is the calm in the center of the storm? Where is the stillpoint in the raging winds? Ah, here it is.
There’s nothing so important to me that I would not give it up in a moment for the stillness. Let all of this come crashing down, I will remain still.
Are we fated to reach a crescendo of worry and fear? No matter. Whatever the attraction of throwing paper in the air and dancing in the streets, I prefer the stillness.
I would rather fail than lose my center. I would rather disappoint than give up my ground of being.
Car racing by, screeching, honking, and I hear only the sound of this breath. And this breath. And this.
I give up all of it – good, bad, indifferent – for the pleasure of one more breath.