Sometimes, on an outbreath, my soul gets scraped to the bone, my breast ripped open, emptied, and my skin hung up to dry in the cool moistness of the crisp dawn air. These times are painful, heart wrenching and yet strangely, poignantly beautiful as I stand face to face with what’s real: The unfolding creative moment of living and dying, quietly singing its part in the ever-evolving process of existence.
In these moments of utter non-breath, I see no choice but to give myself over completely, entirely, with every ounce of my being. All hopes and dreams, released. With no thought for what comes next as I relinquish attachment to everything I think I know. My hand loosens it’s grip and grasping becomes pointless.
Something extraordinary happens in this space of nothingness. A transformational instant, moment, lifetime… a movement occurs. I feel the grace of a gentle wind breathing life into my being, with a force that is quietly inconspicuous, yet deeply intimate, singing my wholeness back to life. Like a lover, I am embraced, a fiercely loving mother – delicious warmth spreading from the inside to the outer parts of me.
In that instant I feel the ecstasy of aliveness – held by paradox, in the sweetest magnificence of the unknown becoming known, and the known, unknown.
I am bathed in the radiance of Supreme Intelligence, breathing in tune with its own unfolding. And because this unfolding creative moment is also always within me, I become more radiant myself. Sharing my discoveries.
And so the outbreath becomes the inbreath.
This is what it is to be Edgewalker.
This is the moment I remember that I AM LOVE.
