Sutra on the Full Awareness of Breathing: Badger’s adaptation

Breathing in, I know I’m breathing in
Breathing out, I’m conscious that it’s

No small thing (given that it doesn’t always work). Prize the simple miracle of air, mindful of each hitch, catch, snag or ragged edge. Watch for the still point poised between the in and out

Breathing in a long breath, I know that I am breathing in a long breath
Breathing out, I

Purge the flotsam of a messy day

Breathing in a short breath, I know I breath a short breath
Breathing out I

Get to work

Breathing in, I’m aware of my body
Breathing out, I am aware of

Every injury I’ve ever had, an ever growing litany of use, somatic resumé

Breathing in, I calm my body
Breathing out, I

Breath through each bruise, ding, tear, stitch, scar and point of inflammation. Working like a barnacle to scrub all hurt and ill from out the endless sea

*now to the good stuff*

Breathing in I feel joy on the strip
Breathing out I feel

A welling eagerness for battle, curious to see, when pressed, what will spring out, a little bit of trepidation

Breathing in, I feel equanimity
Breathing out, I really try, but

This one’s hard—to be ok with any outcome, touch or touched, flow or choke, prince or foolish mammal

Breathing in, I am aware of my attachments and aversions
Breathing out, I recognize

Addiction to the colored lights, to victory, to bling, to all the self-aggrandizing myths I wrap around myself, embellishments of life; Antipathy to loss of face, dissention to my version of the truth, irritating people who won’t play the parts that I've assigned

Breathing in, I release attachments and aversions
Breathing out,

I tug at their barbed hooks, try to see them vanishing like mist

Breathing in, I’m aware of my mind
Breathing out, I am aware that my mind

Lurks, watching, endlessly engaged, meddler in the center of all acts, so clever and so maladroit

Breathing in, I make my mind happy
Breathing out, I try to strike a deal

You have a valued role! To notice and to name, suggest solutions and then (very important) step back and let the body be

Breathing in, I concentrate my mind
Breathing out, I try to concentrate, but

…Cereal or toast? Red boots or black? The cookies that I baked last night could use a little…ack! Begin again, again, again

Breathing in, I liberate my mind
Breathing out, I caste a net

Seining for the ping of distant cars, cats’ purr, ticking of the heat, the warm vanilla scent of wax, the itching of my foot.

Breathing in, I contemplate the transience of things
Breathing out I recognize

This sac of flesh and bone—all it is, and does, is just on loan and subject to recall. Each step I made today will be retraced, all progress lost with time. Everything I love—people, places, simple pleasures—will fade or break or morph into an unfamiliar form

Breathing in, I practice non-attachment
Breathing out, I figure that I

Might as well let go before it’s torn away

Breathing in, I practice letting go
Breathing out

Accept that, in the end, I can’t control my life, I open up my hands and wait for what drops in

Breathing in, I practice cessation
Breathing out,

I sit, a still point on the turning world, wheeling through the stars, fulcrum to a universe blissfully unaware of my attempts at meditation

Unconquerable

Note to self:
When being trounced, don’t frantically try
To even up the score

Resist the rabid impulse to
Make up lost ground
Attack against all odds

Goal one should be don’t get hit

Punch “reset” and
Renegotiate the terms of
The encounter

Throw up a flurried wall of
Obfuscating action
Sabotage the opposition’s game

Change the rules
Shake her faith
Infect her hand with doubt

Forget victorious
For now, just settle for annoying

If the pace was slow,
Go fast; the distance far,
Stay close

Cultivate a calm and even gaze
Accept that I’m already dead, and
Badger from the grave

When I’ve regained an even keel
Taken back the rhythm
Begun to lead the dance

Then turn the tide
Touch by careful touch—one eye on the clock
An easygoing haste

Now, to ink this on my hand
A cheat sheet when the chips are down…

What I Learned this Year

Attachment
Creates negative polarity
In time, it severs
Its own bonds

Friendship
Is a coin with
Two sides, else it is
Worth nothing

Loyalty
Can live on air
But, unfed, becomes in time
Quite thin

Compassion
Born of true affection
Blooms in arid wastes, seeks
Nothing in return

Hungry Eyes

I want your lunge
Her lovely feint deception
His facility to flick
Feather light, airing o’er my back

I want your equanimity when
Chasing seven touches, forty seconds left

I want her squirm, displacing target to
An alternate dimension

His ESP intuiting exactly
Where my tip will land

I long to assimilate
The beauteous traits deployed
By my opponents
Ingest them as my own

I want I want I want
Sometimes, to be
Anyone but pedestrian me

A Visit to Rockville Fencing Academy

50 Southlawn Terrace
Midnight, Christmas Eve
Beneath a bright Polaris
All’s quiet on the second floor
(Since, alas, we lost the mouse…)
And peace reigns in the corridor

Down the darkened hall
Beyond the stern, foreboding sign
(“Halt! Past this point, only patrons of the salle”)
A shuffle, giggle, clomping and soft “hush!”
The lock jiggles, pauses, and gives way…
In tumbles a multi-colored and chaotic rush

It’s not just dear Saint Nick, it’s the whole crew
Halfway through their rounds
Their break is overdue
In quest of cookies they’ve set forth
(As Badger Bakery’s rep has spread
From Maryland to All Poles North)

They polish off the platter
(Salty Oat and Chocolate Chip)
Tidy up stray crumbs, begin to chat and natter
They’re almost ready to embark, but lo! Attention strays
To jackets, neatly hung upon the wall
To blades, brightly arrayed

The elves begin to shuffle and postpone,
Glance at the Boss, their eyebrows raised
He sighs, and checks his phone
Mentally parsing flight times to Ukraine
Then shrugs and gestures to the room, and…
Lets chaos reign

The reindeer joust, bellowing and snorting
Up and down the strips
Noses alight with every touch, cavorting
Red Green Red Green Red Green White
The scoring machine reprogrammed
To belt out “Silent Night”

Santa fences epee, relaxing from his toils
A big man bouncing lightly on his toes.
The elves grab thirty-two inch foils
--Jackets coming to their knees,
Masks to their belly buttons--
And demonstrate their expertise

When its time to re-engage his troupe
A thump of the katana and they freeze
Gather up the scattered gear and, lightning, they regroup
Snip! Snap! Slap! Everything is back in place
The foils racked, the jackets clean and pressed
The trash thrown out, each cup and stray shoelace

Lights out, door shut, the racket fades
All’s peaceful, none would ever know
Except…the jumbled stack of broken blades
Neglected by their warder
Are wired, taped and neatly stacked
In perfect working order

With courteous formality
A neatly lettered note
“Thanks for your hospitality”
From distant sky, a jolly voice belts out
“Merry Christmas everyone
And to all, good bouts!”

Robots

I am beset by
Legions
Drilled in
Subroutines
Timed to the metronomic beat of
Habit

Advance, advance, feint-with-disengage-and-lunge

Lovely!

Perfect in execution but
(Thank heaven)
Flawed in application

Repetitious
Mechanistic
Formulaic
Numb

Programmed in deft
Sequential acts devoid of
Context
Drilled to inappropriate
Perfection
Vulnerable to
Improvisation, the
Unexpected

Present a paradigm that
Does not fit their
Program and it

Gums up their gears

Worms its way into their head and

Brings them down

I’ve never been so grateful for my glitches
For my rank and all-too-human quirks that simply don't compute!

Anitya (Impermanence)

I can intend to
Try
I can intend to
Persevere
Intend to
Heal
To keep my limbs
As polished, supple as my
Blade

I can’t stop time

Time will heal
And in time
Time will unwind what it has
Knit together

I am
Refurbished
Not
Renewed

For now, that is enough

Creativity

Once the basics
Sink
Into the bone, the nerve
Enmuscled memory
Percolate beneath the skin

Once the lunge is
Automatic
Parries auto-load into
The proper line
Ripostes self-detonate
Incognizant but
Deadly

At last
One day
One bout
One moment left unplanned and
Foosh
Ignition

Improvisation
Commandeers my blade
Highjacks my hand
A sequence that I never learned
Explodes, a
Leap surpassing practice
A clever commentary on the
Act

Spooked by my startled
Exultation
The moment flees
I’m left
Bereft
Armed only with
Convention

But deep inside, a hollow’s left behind
A puddled imprint, waiting to refill
When drought lifts and inspiration storms…

Safety Distance

Flirting at the edge, always a
Little out of reach

Pulling my long attack while
Scoping out my game

Throwing off my tempo, making me

Unsure

Clever strategy, or just
Aloof?

At this remove you are
Untouchable

Hazarding no bruises or
Abrasion

No inadvertent chance of
Corps-a-corps

Clever? Perhaps, but
When all’s said and done

You have to dare engagement for
The chance to score

Keeping Score

The flip side of my triumph is your
Disappointment
Anger
Rueful irritation

The obverse of my failure is your
Joy in victory
Extraordinary or
Mundane

The touches, tallied
Sum to zero—
Either way, the balance is
The same

The Powers that Be don’t care if you or I are
#1
Only that the sheet is neat, correct
And signed

A lesson here
In cosmic disregard for our
Concerns

So bugger them

Let’s change the
Nature of the game
Invent a different currency
That multiplies with every touch

As we test
And challenge
Amplify our repertoire
Arm our imagination

There’s no cap on
Insight and experience
A jackpot that pays out from
Every bout