Inhale. Exhale. Calm.


It started during Qigong class, between the “The Jade Plate Receives the Morning Dew” and “Looking at the Lotus Flower in the Clear Pond.” Because the classroom has mirrors on two sides, I was watching myself, as I usually do, but I noticed a kind of lattice work on my neck. It was relatively familiar to me as I remembered noticing it lately during my morning ablutions (the other major time I see myself in the mirror). But today, well, it seemed so pronounced, so geometric, so perfectly symmetrical. Maybe the light was just right, but the geometry of my neck (three triangles above two) actually had me mesmerized for a moment or two. My neck looked like an old intricately woven basket.

And then, during the relaxation/ meditation at the end of class, I found myself weeping. Not loud sobs, but a steady flow of tears. I was rather surprised by their appearance. I had just been focusing on my breath and consciously relaxing the muscles of my abdomen, when I began to tear up. Of course, my attention went there, to the tears, instead of following the teacher’s guidance through relaxing the other parts of my body.

Inhale. Exhale. Calm. When I remembered to go back to following the relaxation, I was sure that something had been released, opened, unlocked — though I was unclear exactly what it was. All I felt was a bit startled and terribly alone.

At the end of class, without thanking the teacher (which I usually do), I hurried to find some kleenex.

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4 Responses to Inhale. Exhale. Calm.

  1. Jerome Bloom says:

    “intricately woven basket”
    US UP

  2. Jerome Bloom says:


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