The Art of the Exhale

I just started reading Pema Chödrön's book When Things Fall Apart,

and I have been trying to practice her meditation technique of 

making the outbreath, the exhale, the object of meditation:

". . . -the elusive, fluid, everchanging out-breath, ungraspable and yet

continuously arising.  When you breathe in, it's like a pause

or a gap.

There is nothing particular to do except wait for the next out-breath." (19)

annawojtczak

~ ~

Last Tuesday, I returned to the States after my second trip abroad

this year.  It was a relief to be home,

and to return to Normalcy, though, quite frankly,

I fear Normalcy 

-- "Normalcy" is that strange state we all slip into

when we are surrounded by the familiar,

where we take things for granted,

take each other for granted,

walk down the street where we live and don't look at the beauty,

etc. etc. etc. . . . 

but I did not come home to Normalcy, really; I came home to a phone message

from an old friend telling me my former husband was dying.

In actual fact, he died that night,

and for 24 hours or so I was barraged by phone calls from people

who associated me with him, everyone wanting to be

the person who told me he had passed on.

Of all the calls I received, the one that moved me most was from my old friend A.,

who happened to be there in the hospital when my ex breathed his last.

A. called me within 30 minutes of the death, and he was indeed the first to tell me.

Truly, I was deeply moved that he shared that moment with me:

I could hear the awe and horror still in A.'s voice as he described the scene:

my former mate had cancer, you see, and it was in his lungs,

in his whole body, A. finally admitted,

(I actually had had contact with my ex- over the past months,

and knew he was quite ill, though he would't tell me

exactly how ill)

and he had a breathing tube,

and A. explained the sound of the breath

even with the tube,

and I recalled the times I've stood by one near death,

and all I could really focus on 

was breath.

The inhale, yes,

the agonizing intake,

but more poignantly,

the exhale --

that moment of release

and relief

that anyone at hand knew could be the last,

and I was happy to hear

that the final breath was a gentle one,

a peaceful one 

orchestrated by Mahler, played by one of his friends. 

You see, exhales are the most important part of the breath because

it is what we give out to the world.

Yes, we need the inhale for our individual lives,

we draw in the air to maintain our measly machines,

but it is the exhale that we give to the rest of our

living, breathing creation.

(inhabitat)

Perhaps this is why people are so interested in final words:

Did he say anything about me?

(No, I didn't wonder that, not at all; but people do.)

Did he say anything absolutely insightful?

Did she say anything at all?

The final word is the wish we give to the larger assembly.

So it is best if it is one of love, or at least one of peace or compassion,

or understanding.  

Our world is so full of evil expirations

and intentions, and it seems to me our final words

have the power to allay them.

huffingtonpost (interesting story - The Scream is being auctioned off!)

~ ~ ~

Indeed, every exhalation is a powerful thing,

like a wish, or a spell, we unconsciously bring 

to those around us.  My mother

was a great sigher, exuding her personal agonies on her children

with every melodramatic sigh.

I think we were all impacted by this,

raised as we were in this aura of personal despair.

Exhalations of fear, too, only fill others with apprehension.

I can see that in my poor cats: when I get upset,

they are upset, too, just as

when I am in love, they too are in love.

Air, you see, is the most insubstantial substance

we consume 

in the material world,

and, whether we like it or not,

it gets recycled.

Now that we understand recycling a little more,

those of us who care actually clean what we discard

before we put it out to be reused.

Why not the same with breath?

Meditating on the outbreath

makes me very conscious of this dynamic.

I know it's hard to make every outbreath meaningful --

after all, we take so many every hour --

but being conscious on some level of the challenge

can slowly bring a change

to every breath we take,

and give back to the world in which we live

and die.

the diva in divine; the divine in diva

~ ~It is very pretentious, I know,
to call one's self
a diva~~

Beyonce calls herself one:

Now, I'm not going to say
that Beyonce is not
a diva,
in fact I do think she is,
but I want to contemplate,
briefly
the way the meaning of this word has changed.

A hustler, of course, is a cheater,
or a pimp
or a prostitute,
someone whose primary motivation
is money and sex.

But is that truly all

a diva is?


Now, diva is a word
that for a long time
has had somewhat negative connotations:

(maria malibran-wikipedia + mariamalibran.net )

Divas do have a reputation
of being tempermental
and willful,
but that willfulness
coincides with a tendency to be
a top performer,
someone who gives their all.



Anyone who finds opera
to be excessive or weird,
or criticizes divas
for being too testy
doesn't understand one key point:
to give one's self to a piece of music like that
means making one's Self
somewhat vulnerable.

You surrendor to the music,
you surrendor to your art,
and the outcome,
if you don't protect yourself
with a fiery temperment
or a good manager,
can be fatal.

( brooklynmuseum )


~ ~ ~


Even Wikipedia acknowledges
that the definition itself
has its roots
in something far more
perfect and pure:

"The word entered the English language in the late 19th century. It is derived from the Italian noun diva, a female deity. The plural of the word in English is "divas"; in Italian, dive [ˈdiːve]. The basic sense of the term is "goddess",^[1][2] the feminine of the Latin word divus (Italian divo), a male deity.^[3] The word is thus distantly related to the Hindu term deva and the Zoroastrian concept of the daevas."
( wikipedia/diva )

Thus, in both the West and the East,
the etymology of the word
is distinctly grounded
in the notion of divine.

(paleothea.com)

In both traditions
it is linked with a goddess,
and has a male counterpart as well.



I often quote a man named
Hazrat Inayat Khan,
and according to him:

"The word divine has its origin in the Sanskrit word
Deva,
which also means divine.  And yet the root of this word means light,
which explains that the divine 
is that part of being 
which is illuminated
by the light within."

I find Inayat Khan's message to be
the most satisfying these days,
because he sought to preach a
oneness
across belief systems,
and it is a oneness
that acknowledges
the existence of
the divine.

He goes on to say:

"Therefore, though in man there is light hidden,
if not disclosed,
he is not divine.
If the hidden light were divine,
then the stone could be divine too,
for the spark of fire
is hidden in the rock.
All life is one,
without doubt,
and all names and forms are of the same life.
But that part of life from which light springs,
illuminating itself and its surroundings,
and bringing recognition of its own being,
is divine;
for in this is the fulfilment
of the purpose of the whole creation,
and every activity is directed towards achieving the same purpose."

( minxmx )

A deva in the Hindu tradition
is an angel, any benevolent spiritual entity,
and there are many

In the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad,
it is claimed there are
33 celestial devas,
and the Vedas tell us
that those 33 devas
are reflected in Nature,
in the world we live in.


Inayat Khan continues:
"How calmly the mountains and hills seem to be waiting for a certain day to come!
If we went near them and listened to their voices,
they would tell us this.
And how eagerly the plants and the trees in the forest
seem to be waiting for some day, for some hour,
the hour of the fulfilment of their desire!
If only we could hear the words they say!
In animals, in birds,
in the lower creation, the desire is still more intense
and still more pronounced. 
The seer can see it when his glance meets their glance."


In Buddhism,
the deva is also a deity,
a "shining one,"
but they live in an impermanent place,


The average human,
caught up in the hustle of the day
(the diva is a hustler???)
cannot hear them,
but those who have opened their
extrasensory eye or ear,
they can be perceived.

( esogarden )


In all these traditions,
the deva or diva
is she - and he -
who has taken the next step
on a journey
to the divine
,
and this individual
gains this stage
by opening up
something essential
to that individual--


Inayat Khan adds:
"But the fulfilmment of this desire is in man [and woman]:
the desire that has worked through all aspects of life
and brought forth different fruits,
yet always preparing a way
to reach the same Light which is called Divinity.
But even man, whose right it is, 
cannot reach it unless he acquire
the knowledge of the self,
which is the essence of all religions."
( from:"God the Infinite" The Unity of Religious Ideals ) 


The knowledge of self,
in this sense,
has little to do
with money or sex
and everything to do
with accepting your true voice
opening yourself up
and truly
singing --


a vulnerable position,
to say the least,
but it is the position
of the true diva
the one who 
will take the risk
of letting their light
really shine . . . 











(follow this link to 80 year-old Janey Cutler -- those who have posted
her videos on YouTube have wisely not enabled comments or posting.)


I would dare say
a true diva 
today
is one who is not afraid
to open up
and let their inner light shine.





Notably,
though,
many divas today
in the U.S.A.
feel it necessary
to wrap their divinity
in pretentious disguises,
or  to only settle for children
who do it naturally,
because in the West,
at least,
we don't smile upon those who forefront their talent.
We prefer
to elevate
the mundane,
and the absurd,
to give rewards
for just being present,
and to applaud
the hustla.




And meanwhile,
the natural world,
the earth,
waits, 
waits
for the coming of the divine


and the sad thing is:


the divine will come from nowhere
if it does not come
from us.