good morning…

Leo made a dinner of Fussili pasta and portabello love potion sauce
… with canned peas.
canned food makes everything taste…
Canned
the taste of my child hood..
ugh… those days, those awful days.
we set up the bed outside on the deck
the thick down duvet
the thick cotton/poly sleeping bag opened to cover us both
the thin cotton sun/moon blanket a big john had given me years ago…
the wind was blowing a gale!
the trees were screaming
but it was a beautiful night
we snuggled up warm
and let the stars sing us to sleep…
but the stars always fill my head with ideas
and i remembered that canned food is dead food
and that you should put life in to dead food before you eat it
so that it doesn’t have to leech life from your body to be digested
(you have to make it alive again before your body can use it)
so i
retroactively
went into the food (before we ate it)
and filled it with light.
life.
What a good idea…
[i wondered]
and it occurred to me…
wouldn’t it be great if they taught us that in school?
if i could be the uncle of every child
and find the opportune moment to ask them
“have they ever taught you about breathing yet?”
and then teach them..
wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all learned prana-yama or qi-gung as children…
wouldn’t it be wonderful if we learned it at all?
but the stars reminded me
it was clear
there is no time anyway
so i was the man in the wallpaper
at the small house i grew up in
in the blue room where i tried to find the door out of reality
i would stare into the wallpaper and make up stories of the designs
now
i was in the wall paper
i said
“Nicky…”
i was the man outside
“Nicky, go outside…”
i was in the trees, the vines, the ivy and oak, the corn and briars…
“Nicky…”
i was the great crab-apple tree
Nicky used to sleep walk a lot
i don’t remember
my parents told me
“Nicky…”
i called him
“mom,” he would say, ” i can’t find the sky in the garage ”
and dance in front of the TV
i was outside, i was the tree
“Nicky, come out through the garage, come around the corner, to the left…”
he stood under the great tree, looking up at me
“Nicky… have they taught you about breathing yet?”
“no…”
Nicky is five years old…
“Nicky, when you breathe… breath in as much as you can..
that’s right
let your chest get really big
yeah, til you can feel it tingling in your toes
.. do you know what you’re breathing in?
Have they told you about Life?
When you breathe in
you are breathing air and Life
when you breathe out
you are breathing out air and Life
everything around you is made of Life
everything around you is giving you Life
: Breathe it in..
it’s infinite… it’s all around you forevermore.. it will never run out
and when you breathe out… you are giving your Life to everything around you
so is the Life inside of you infinite: you will never run out
breathe your Life into everything you see and hear and feel
and breathe in Life from everything around you
learn to do this all the time…”
i could feel Nicky breathing
i could feel him remembering
in my body
i could feel myself growing up
learning about Love and Life
knowing it all along
from a little kid
i can remember my friend in the trees
the faeries…
i had a different childhood than i had
the wind was screaming through the trees
and Leo’s body was giving off heat like a fire
i was warming myself
i was breathing Life into him
and feeling his radiate into me
the wind was screaming in the trees
and the stars were singing us to sleep
all night i don’t know if i slept
i dreamt
i was going through different times and teaching myself
i breathing
i was floating and shifting
hat on my head
nose exposed
eyes cold
finding peace somewhere
and the negative ions in the air
the shooting stars punctuating my fantasies
the dawn rising
red along the horizon cut through the branches of the cedar
little bits of branches and seeds falling on us all night
the sun was coming
and i guess it’s time to start the day:
i have to pack everything
i have a lot of work ahead of me.