Breathe. Then Prompt.

Two thousand twenty-six. Tuesday, June ninth.

We are in the Decan of Sirius, the Dog Star. This is day 2 of the initiate phase. This decan demands that I plan and balance my time smartly. Both for this decan and the remaining thousand, give or take. The sun heats the surfaces to where they are too hot to lay on. A sensation that would have existed for many many thousands and millions of years. Weather. Heavy influencer, but out of my control. What is in my control is my breath. My mind goes in the way of that, but with practice I become aware of breath, more and more. And is breath that which I am. How can it not. Breath is there. I am here. No breath. And I would be gone. So it is breath which writes this.

It is the breath which offers me the peace. It is there, thus, that which outside is that which causes breath within to stir. Worth noticing. What if there is, within the human system, a desire to recurse on itself and map consciousness as system. There is also simplicity in the breath. When I become lost in my thoughts, it is the breath that unbinds and allows the free pen to flow across page and enjoy the sheer delight of being in space-time, taking some action, creating both experience and record, working to set aside anything layering on top, in between or in the middle, and returning to the breath when the structure becomes too weighty. The breath holds all.

It starts with the breath. Then you add, drink water, and make the bed. These come along and are the foundational components necessary to not burn up in the heat of a star like Sirius, and when operating at the forge in the heat of uncertainty, knowing that it is always possible to come back to steady measured awareness and breath and being, legible penmanship, and that being enough, and whatever, for whatever's sake.

At heart my dreams are that of a philosopher, and thus often work their way onto the page and wriggle their way sneakily out of my consciousness, when I'm simply trying to breathe and make nice scribbles and here comes some thought to ruin the experience and stop my breath entirely. And I realize this is the case most of the time, and the deep breath is the sign to do more breathing. Perhaps a new mantra:

Breathe. Then prompt. Then breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

Even writing the word is enough to forget the act, and life is very sneaky, like that, and we have to watch all the tricks the senses play, transforming truth from experience into maps we may not have created. The software of existence is that which hardwires our hardware into the wetware, all driven by breath.

I keep writing this word, and it is a difficult one. Does it get the "e" at the end or not. In German it is Atem. The atom, with an E. I have to be careful when I write.

Sometimes I force myself to slow down and try the unfamiliar and really sit with constraint, and continue with the practice, working with breath and body, growing capability through the unfamiliar.

A note: I wrote this last paragraph with my left hand. It took all my patience and breath to do.