As I lay in bed this morning in that halfway state between sleeping and waking, listening to the orchestra of birdsong, I became aware of my breathing.  How many breaths do I take during the night while I sleep?  How fortunate I don't have to worry about it, that breathing is automatic.  Yet, when I want to change my breath, within limits, I can.  What a miracle breathing is.  The basis from which all life flows. 

How easy it is to take everything for granted.  I do.  All the time.  Yet life is a miracle.  The very act of being alive.  I know I've written of this before but it doesn't hurt to remind myself.  Wish I could remind others.   How lightly we view life.  How cheaply we toss it away or maim it beyond recognition.  (Unfortunately read and viewed images about a new drug called Krocodil which destroys flesh so that bone is exposed.  After using it one's life expectancy averages about three years). 

What were the users thinking?

What are we as a species thinking?  We seem hell bent on destroying ourselves and taking every living thing with us.  It's so sad and so unnecessary.  We've forgotten the miracle of the breath.  With it, everything is possible.  Without it.  Nothing.  The door closes so firmly that even the door no longer exists.

Dust Storms, Dimitri and The Eternal Now

September 25, 2009. Have to hurry as we've company coming for drinks and munchies in a bit over an hour. We had a dust storm come through a couple of days ago. It hit Sydney and moved north through Brisbane and further up the coast. I looked out through the surgery window and it was like I'd put red cellophane over my eyes. Very weird. Not scary weird like the light looks before a tornado or a severe storm, or even during a partial eclipse, just weird. 18,000 tons an hour dropped over the land -- all from South Australia so they say. The dust covers everything. In this old Queenslander, full of gaps and holes, it entered without any hindrance despite the house being 'shut up'. In a house over a 100 years old you can't make it airtight. I've dusted and mopped and dusted some more and sort of succeeded in smearing it around a bit. I cleaned the keys on this keyboard yet can still feel it, slippery like talcum powder, beneath my fingers. I can smell it too. When it is dampened it smells a little like it does before rain. Apparently it is possible we'll have another one coming in the next day or two, hopefully not as severe. What drove the dust was the wind.
I'm concerned about Dimitri as he took a header this morning from the perch and bit his tongue (I think). His beak appears intact but there was blood dripping from his mouth. He will take the odd sunflower seed but very tentatively. I've piled padding all around the perch so if he decides to try and fly at least he'll have a softer landing. R says take the tree perch away and perhaps it should be removed yet it is his favourite spot. He is up high (when he's on it he's just above eye level with me) and can see out and about. I think it's important that he learns to live effectively with his disability. Perhaps I'll change my mind and remove it but I don't think so.
I've been trying to live consciously, my mantra (when I think of it!) The Eternal Now. The eternity of the present. There is no other time, no other reality but this endless Now. It does help to center me when I become agitated. Like when Dimitri hurt himself. I was bitten this week by a dog suffering from tick paralysis who just went beserk. I was trying to lower him to the ground from the table as he was thrashing so hard I thought if he broke free he'd fling himself to the ground. I had him by the scruff but he managed to twist around and lock onto my arm. I didn't center myself very well then. It bloody hurt too much. Later however, when it was aching and I had trouble flexing my hand (bruising to the tendons I think) I did much better. I do believe one can heal oneself through the power and energy of thought. I know I have done so sometimes. I'm pretty useless with headaches and nausea but have had success with other things. Anyway, I sent healing energy to my arm and it's looking pretty darn good now. And feels pretty darn good too.
Best get cracking and feed up. You know, it's quite a miracle being alive and breathing. Makes me happy.