As Poem: A Pure Part of the Abyss as Primeval Source of Existence

I think of an abyss

As a deep cavern

Or the depths of the ocean,

A deep

Dark

Cold

Forbidding place.

I feel a foreboding at that thought.

The depths of space strike me the same way.

Emotional abyss is a place

Of despondency

Of loss

Of desolation.

The classical abyss,

The philosophical/spiritual/mystical abyss,

The Abyss as Primeval Source of Existence,

This is different to me.

I have always felt a part of the Oneness

Of the Universe.

Beyond my very modest

Rational thought understanding

Of the quantum multiverse

I feel Oneness encompassing all existence

I feel myself in that Oneness

All-connected

All-related.

I am a white-capped crest of a wave

A miniscule part of the ocean of existence.

The word part is insufficient

For there exists no boundary

No threshold

Between the part that is me

And the parts that I touch;

We are one.

As a wave, I am

Not a piece of water,

But a pulse

Travelling through the water

Rolling across the vast Pacific

Leaving warm tropical waters behind

I move through colder waters

To break on a distant shore.

I become a vibration in the rocks

In the sand

In the air

In the trees

In a human sitting over a tide pool

Reading these words.

I breathe the air.

Is the air I am about to inhale

Me?

Is the air I just exhaled

Me?

Is the air in my lungs

Me?

Is the oxygen entering my bloodstream

Me?

Is the carbon dioxide exiting my bloodstream

Me?

Are the photons of sunlight entering

My skin

My lens, cornea, iris, and retina

Me?

Where and when

Does the packet of pheromones

And essence of lavender

And flavor of pesto

And rot of compost

Entering my nostrils

Become me?

Where do vibrations

My daughter’s voice

The rimshot of a snare drum

The whine of my dog

The purr of my cat

Become

My body

Vibrations?

I feel the radiant heat

Of a bruised muscle

A fraction of an inch

From my hand

As with laying on of hands

I reduce inflammation

Without skin-to-skin

Contact.

I feel the pulse of a meridian

I gently press a fingertip

Into an acupressure point.

I feel the chaotic, sickly energy

Of a migraine

In my hands.

I reposition the neck

Release the pressure

On the vertebrae

Release the tension

In the muscles.

Where does my client end

Where do I begin?

Where are the boundaries

Between my treatment table and my client

Between my client and me

Between us and the rest of the room?

Everything here

Is a room’s worth of nuclei

Kept apart by orbiting electrons

Electrons shared by nuclei

In molecules

Joined in communities

We identify as objects.

I feel oil and sweat

Of my client’s skin

Heat of my client’s muscles

In my hands,

The flow of my energy

Through and around my hands.

I sense the room’s atmosphere

Vibration

Mood,

Tone.

I feel one with

Wind and sound and damp at the ocean’s edge

A roaring football stadium as one team comes together

And another falls apart

A hand on a swooping sculpture’s curve

My mind’s eye

My heart

My body

As I grok a Frankenthaler painting.

As I watch a spider spin her web

A flight of pelicans glide over the beach

A butterfly flutter

A dragonfly whoosh

A deer tiptoe

A coyote trot.

I feel Oneness

With redwood forest

Glacier-carved granite cliff

Waterfall

New-fallen snow.

I feel this

In love

In sex

In grief

In memoriam.

I feel this

In gratitude

In appreciation

In communication

In understanding.

I know this

In my sum totality

Which I ignore

In my separate parts.

For those parts are inseparable

Though they know not.

As students in a class are inseparable

They are the class.

As a family is separate as individuals

Yet interwoven as a family.

As a community is an interdependent whole

Intermeshed in myriad ways

Visible

Apparent

And not.

I see you.

I hear you.

I feel you.

Yet I merely sense

My greater self

That includes us both

And all that we are.

We are one.

We are one in this time and place

This experience

In

Through

And beyond

Time and place

Alive with potential

Alive with history

Here and now.

Only here and now.

And now.

And now.

So full.

Vibrating

Pulsating.

Alive.

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A Pure Part of the Abyss as Primeval Source of Existence

I think of an abyss as a deep cavern or the depths of the ocean, a deep, dark, cold, forbidding place. I feel a foreboding at that thought.

The depths of space strike me the same way.

Emotional abyss is a place of despondency, sense of loss, desolation.

The classical abyss, the philosophical/spiritual/mystical abyss, The Abyss as Primeval Source of Existence, this is different to me. I have always felt myself to be a part of the Oneness, the Universe. Beyond my very modest rational thought understanding of the quantum multiverse, I feel Oneness encompassing all existence and feel myself in that Oneness, all-connected, all-related.

I am a white-capped crest of a wave that is a miniscule part of the ocean of existence, but the word part is insufficient, for there exists no boundary, no threshold between the part that is me and the parts that I touch; we are one.

As a wave, I am in fact not a piece of water, but a pulse travelling through the water, rolling across the vast Pacific, leaving warm tropical waters behind as I move through colder waters to break on a distant shore. I then become a vibration in the rocks, in the sand, in the air, in the trees, and in a human sitting over a tide pool reading these words.

I breathe the air. Is the air I am about to inhale me? Is the air I just exhaled me? Is the air in the lungs me? Is the oxygen entering my bloodstream me? Is the carbon dioxide exiting my bloodstream me? Are the photons of sunlight entering my skin, my lens, cornea, iris, and retina me?

Where and when does the packet of pheromones and essence of lavender and flavor of pesto and rot of compost entering my nostrils become me? Where do the vibrations of my daughter’s voice and the rimshot of a snare drum and the whine of my dog and the purr of my cat become my body vibrations?

I feel the radiant heat of a bruised muscle a fraction of an inch from my hand as with laying on of hands I reduce the inflammation without skin-to-skin contact. I feel the pulse of a meridian as I gently press a fingertip into an acupressure point. I feel the chaotic, sickly energy of a migraine headache in my hands as I reposition a client’s neck and release the pressure of the vertebrae and release the tension in the neck muscles.

Where does my client end and I begin? If I take a non-attached view, what are the boundaries between my treatment table and my client and me and the rest of my treatment room? Everything here is a room’s worth of nuclei kept apart by orbiting electrons, electrons shared by nuclei in molecules, the molecules joined in communities that we identify as objects.

I feel the oil and sweat of my client’s skin on my fingertips, the heat of my client’s neck muscles in my hands, the flow of my client’s energy around my hands. I sense the room’s atmosphere, vibration, mood, tone, peace and agitation, dissipating tension, calming anxiety.

It’s the whole experience of wind and sound and damp at the ocean’s edge, of a roaring football stadium as one team comes together and another falls apart, of a hand on a swooping sculpture’s curve, of my mind’s eye and my heart and my body as I grok a Frankenthaler painting.

I feel this watching a spider spin her web, a flight of pelicans glide over the beach, a butterfly flutter, a dragonfly whoosh, a deer tiptoe, a coyote trot. I feel this in the redwood forest, glacier-carved granite cliffs, waterfalls, new-fallen snow. I feel this in love, in sex, in grief, in memoriam. I feel this in gratitude, in appreciation, in communication, in understanding.

I know this in my sum totality, this which I ignore in my separate parts. For those parts are inseparable, though they know not. As students in a class are inseparable, they are the class. As a family is separate as individuals, but interwoven as a family. As a community is an interdependent whole, intermeshed in myriad ways visible, apparent, and not.

I see you. I hear you. I feel you. Yet am I not merely sensing my greater self that includes us both and all that we are? We are one. We are one in this time and place, this experience in, through, and beyond time and place, alive with potential, alive with history, only here and now. And now. And now. So full. Vibrating, pulsating. Alive.