Meditation (Instructional)

Want to try meditating?

This always lulls me into the subconscious:

Get comfortable in a bath with as few ambient distractions as possible i.e. changing lights or noises.  When doing it, focus on consistent breathing e.g. I inhale for 4 seconds, exhale for 3 (my exhales are shorter, likely due to the muscles in the lungs). The counting scheme that works best for me is to use increments and the word ‘second’ as such, (inhaling) 1, second, second, second; (exhaling) 1, second, second; then 2 (inhaling), second, second, second; 2 (exhaling), second, second; etc.. Now that my breath is incrementing, I’ll count to 20 breaths with my eyes closed.  At 20, or if you so feel inclined to go longer, kick the drain keeping your eyes closed. Focus on the water level around you as it evacuates.

Tell me how you like it!

Also, a single candle or Epsom salts (sold at $1 stores and pharmacies) make the experience more enjoyable.

A Man Called Year (poem)

I read A Man Called Year on YouTube

I was bereft of warmth on a cold March day, whence overnight a deft young’n made his yearly play! An old man walked defeated as he muttered and chastised the young boy that heated the world as he warmly exercised. The wisdom of the elder: self-assuredly shrewd, scoffed at the brat so undoubtedly rude, “I’ll be back boy mark my words, one day you’ll be old and grey, just like the old soul I saw a year ago today!” Spring looked at him and brushed off newly sowed doubt, “Old men like you do naught but complain and pout! Look how this land flourishes with my youthful ways, I’ll do nothing but good for the rest of my days!” Winter looked at him and chuckled now forlorn, “Don’t believe me and be glad, for your hope and future’s bright, but your strength will wither from you with every passing night.” The ancient closed his eyes and lay at Spring’s bare feet, for death is something we all share as our last defeat.

I stood there... watching this lad walk where Winter’s visage fell, he kneeled above the rotting corpse, wishing the spirit well.  His ignorance kept him blissful but knowledge grew and scared him, his face was getting wistful with new uncertain whim. Blooming flowers and honey bees were summoned by his presence; food, life, and wealth became his friendly presents.

This is the cyclical life of a man called Year, so for this newborn I shed another tear. He will fade quickly like the old man behind him, his now fair face will become lined and wrinkled grim. A solemn fate will catch him no matter what belief, from every fallen flower to Fall’s final leaf.

Birthday Wishes (poem)

I read Birthday Wishes on YouTube

Here's to being one year older,
each age told… that statement’s bolder.
So thanks for all the birthday wishes,
all you misters and all you misses!

Our youth fades yearly… so why whine?
Age brings perfection along with time…
Like seedlings to a bushy pine,
or the grapes for a glass of wine.

Vine growth continues in the sun,
where children play and run.
With revolving rotations their heads rise:
experiencing highs! Pies! Fries! Laughs! And sighs…

A select few become strong and wise…
Experience their offspring's offspring's cries.

I sincerely appreciate your action,
its sweet wish is kindly found,
continues life’s chemical reaction,
saying STRENGTH lends it...that’s profound.