Peace With Every Breath

Pacific rebellion. That’s how I’ve been viewing meditation lately when I sit at dawn in the morning with my Buddhist friends. There’s endless talk of hostility, deception, and wasteful deeds in the paper and daily conversation. What better way to counteract all of that – than to sit in awareness, with nothing to accomplish, for an hour.

I’m not a morning person either; I often grumble at having to get up at 5:30, although I do like the sounds of the birds before the sun rises, they seem to be most vibrant just after waking. Yet this rebellion with my friends, this pilgrimaging aimlessly with each breath, always turns out to be a good idea. There’s something wonderful about experiencing the rising and falling of the body, the breath, the thought, the sense that I have been blessed with the powerful opportunity to ignite life, or lie on my bed with no plans, or by calling a friend with good news, or with no news. Eventually, after settling down into a sit, I place my faith in the body to transform itself into something the slightest bit more serene, and all these wonders and worries disintegrate into colorful, indecipherable ash.

Of course, the experience of sitting is not always so marvelous.

“Breathing in, I am annoyed. Breathing out, I wish I were on a roller coaster.” But simply being there with this unrest creates a powerful space. I no longer feel like the object of the earth’s dissatisfaction, the world is not out to get me. Now, I am blessed with this annoying experience. How sweet it is to have scaly fingers, an ear itch, or to feel longing.

Each breath is transformative, and extends to my whole body. My pinky, my hair, my arteries all rely on moment-to-moment breath, and sustain my health, ability to listen, laugh, or walk. Despair comes and goes, but it will not last, because it does not bring peace. It has no foundation. As Rumi says, “When you feel separate, you are in your imagination.” The tree roots of our bodies intertwine endlessly. “Don’t let go!” They cry. And they won’t! Despair is illusory; fling it away with a wave of the hand. Hope may seem the same, but hope’s object – life, peace, union – has no beginning or end. It is here to stay.

I wonder about the presence of joy within me when life seems less than fine… Is it OK that things aren’t fine? How do I come to terms with less than satisfying days? They have been rarer and rarer when I start with my days of pacific rebellion, but they never go away entirely. That’s what being human is all about, I suppose. Peace with every breath, and peace with every step. 

Seth Kinzie is the Outreach Director at Monks Without Borders.