To be who I am—to breathe from my heels, as Taoist master Chuang Tzu specified—it will be immediately helpful to relinquish past and future. Why? There’s no breath there. No rhythm.
The door to the heart opens on the realization that the ground of our being, the essence of who we are, is formless. All else is congealed energy. “Our bodies are like prisons,” said Einstein, “and I look forward to be free, but I don’t speculate on what will happen to me. I live here now, and my responsibility is in this world now.”
Chaos and cosmos are dance partners. In the West, we refer to the law of opposites. In the East, the Sanskrit word samsara, is employed. The role of chaos is to trigger germination, an irruptive movement involving the utter destruction of an innocent casing.
We are not bodies in space. We’re the space in which bodies appear.
In our essence, we’re limitless, sky-sized, changeless and forever. The body, obviously, is time bound. Since the illimitable cannot be limited, we are in our essence not bodies. We’re spiritual beings temporarily enfleshed.