Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. I say these words, I allow these words to wash over me as my energy channels are open (or in other words, my back looks straight as I sit cross-legged, arms out and palms open, but it is because the chakras are open and stacked upon one another naturally, not restricted and oppressed).
Breathing in, these words flow in and as I mentioned, wash over me as if they are water and exhaling, this dynamic fullness rhythms over me, if I can say that. That is what it feels like. A weight of lightness both in weight and fullness of light and with every breath, is taking with it residue that I have held on to.
Residue from this morning.
Residue from yesterday.
Breathing in, Jesus Son of God.
Breathing out, have mercy on me, a sinner.
There is an ebb and flow.
A coming inwards and then a surrendering outwards
but not a collapsing.
I think of the word ‘sinner’.
I think of how Martin Luther understood that word: a curving.
I think of how I understand that word right now: woundedness.
Breathing in, Breathing out.
Jesus, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
I wonder and then I stop to wonder
Because his communion,
Is warm, powerful,
Here we are.
Hanging in the truest sense of the word.
Not getting coffee, not seeing a movie,
Although we have before and have had dinner dates too,
Hanging in that I am hanging, suspended in a space and time
I wish I could always exist in here while carrying about in my day’s space and time,
If only, and then when I think instead of be,
I lose that connection.
Breathing in and out.
Jesus, Son of God, have mercy upon me a sinner.
Jesus, Son of God, have mercy upon me for I am wounded.
I think of Steinbeck and that part when Samuel unpacks to Adam the part where
Things just keep going back in time all the way to the beginning.
The woundedness just passed down until we examine it,
Have meekness, vulnerability,
Breathing in, Breathing out.
Jesus, Son of God, Have mercy upon me a sinner.
I breathe in. Going through all of my chakras as if my root chakra was a live octopus slurping and gathering as much oxygen as it could.
Through the root, navel, diaphragm, heart, the heart I always try to make sure oxygen passes through it, the throat (is it on?), the third eye, the crown, and the two I have above it.
I almost run out of oxygen and the ability to breath both out and up.
Both expanded horizontally and vertically,
I let the breath out slowly, passing through the chakras but from opposite directions.
Letting Living Water, God’s Ruah (his Breath), go through me letting him take residue that I have surrendered.
I place my hands to my forehead, I notice it is on my third eye, thanking him.
I then cross myself, and realise for the first time that I am crossing the soft part of myself: my front.
Jesus protects me. I can be soft. Allowing his love and grace to flow through me and in that sense protect me.
Allowing me to be fully me through living and dwelling in him.
There, Joy can be received and lived!