One Step, One Breath

 

 

One Step, One Breath

Perhaps I am drifting big time.

Maybe it is the collapsing of my old self, seeking the comfort zones I have always been familiar with, together with the fear of losing my footing after having worked so hard to achieve some measure of peace with myself.

A strange thought came to me through two dreams.

In the first, I was trying desperately to strike the great Boncho bell correctly. Even my Zen instructor was there, trying to figure out what was wrong with the whole procedure. But the harder I tried, the more my confidence disappeared.

Then the large wooden striker disappeared.

And eventually, even the great bell itself was gone.

A little girl was playing nearby, looking at me as though she had lost recognition of someone who had once been her favourite friend.

It was a deeply depressing feeling.

In the second dream, there was a young woman to whom I was attracted. She seemed to be approaching some kind of ordination or awakening, and I was trying to reach her. But I couldn't make it. Instead, I found myself declaring my love for another friend who was actually trying to help me get to her.

I woke up with that strange mixture of loss, confusion and longing that dreams sometimes leave behind.

And perhaps I have been carrying some of that into waking life.

Yesterday morning, for the first time in a long while, I deliberately denied myself the Morning Doa on YouTube that had become part of my daily routine. There were even several versions of the same videos appearing on the screen, almost as though the universe was saying, “Well? Are you going to listen?”

But I didn't.

Something inside me knew I was becoming negligent. Taking things for granted. Letting things slide.

Then came yesterday's haze—the worst I can remember hitting the Island.

My daughter's laptop suddenly went out while she was working and now needs to be taken to the shop.

Small things, perhaps.

But when we are unsettled, small things can suddenly seem to carry enormous meaning.

And yet, something good happened yesterday too.

I visited my closest friend, Ben Ronjen, and his wife, who had just returned from travelling in Tibet. They brought me a gift—a small black stone from one of the highest points they had reached in the mountains.

There I met several close friends.

We talked.

We touched base.

And somehow, that simple gathering brought me back to earth.

Perhaps that is the lesson I am beginning to see.

The little incidents are not necessarily signs that something is going wrong. They may simply be part and parcel of getting deeper into knowing who I am—my strengths, my weaknesses, my attachments, my fears and the places where I still seek comfort.

I have been feeling as though I am in regression.

But perhaps regression is not always going backward.

Perhaps sometimes what feels like losing our footing is simply the old ground giving way.

And perhaps I don't need to understand everything.

I don't need another explanation.

I don't need to make up stories or excuses.

I just need to take the next step forward...

and breathe the next breath...

welcoming a new day.

The Azan has just broken the silence.

So perhaps that is enough for now.

One step.
One breath.
One new day.

Wallahu A'lam.

#OneStepOneBreath #WallahuAlam #Awakening #LifeJourney #FindingMyWay