Being born…
In a deep meditative breathwork practice yesterday, I noticed that it may have been pretty confusing to be born. I quickly stopped myself from thinking about it, because I just didn’t want to go there. Not wanting to doubt what I’m processing, I rather just stop it beforehand.
And it came back, a few times. The sensation of warm water on my chest, the sensation of that warmth of the womb - what it’s like when it’s suddenly not here - to be born. The desire to just feel. Sense. Warm blankets, colors, and whatever else newborns do.
It is simple to just be. There are no words. Just sensations and emotions. Words get in the way. I use words to try, try to connect what grownups seem to have a hard time experiencing. It sometimes works. Other times, quiet would say more.
To be born is supposed to be a gift.
It is also forced. Which gift is forced?
But then we also chose it, life.
A beautiful game of opposites.
Yesterday I finally went out to hike. Finally remembered what I forgot for a few months (is it a few months already?! 🥴😬 - avoidance happens faster then I think). Gosh, I actually forgot how good it can be to go out on a trail. How did I forget??
Forgetting seems to be part of this wild mystery of life. We forget, we find it again, what was already here. We are happy to find something new. What we think is new is really the warmth of familiar. And rounds of forgetting, finding, remembering we go.
I was born, I am meant to be born. I am meant to live. I am meant to be. Part of this great mystery is to not only passively live, but to actively live. Engaging in it all. Contribute to it all.
Yesterday I went out for ice cream, and a latte. I dipped spoon full of ice cream in the hot latte - it was delicious. Large, dark, thick coffee flavored latte, a tiny cup of ice cream. I can justify the junk. The owners of the store have a passion. A unique way of ice cream making, and very exciting and exotic flavors. What a great contribution to this world.
Their secret is the coffee, which no one talks about. But it’s true, they have delicious coffee, one of the best in LA, I find. I sometimes go there just for that. The coffee. But in truth?! They have a passion for what they do, and I want a sip of that.
Born to love.
Born to live.
Born to give, to share, to experience.
Born again, each breath, each moment, month, and year. Each round of “I can’t anymore”. Each time I’m fooled of my limits. and I am born again.
Here I am..
~ Motty Kenigsberg
Join my world:
Retreats: Be-retreat.com
Coaching: Mottykenigsberg.com
