The peaceful body is given, inherent. It is always there. We, however, are not.
Sooner or later, the return begins. We find our way back home to ourselves. We unlock the door, and cross the threshold. We're inside. We open the windows, sit down, and lean back. Without our having to ask, a cool breeze touches our face and fills our lungs.
We are our house. We need to know where our doors and windows are, and how they are designed to open. To unlock a door, you must first understand the workings of a lock before you can construct a key that will fit. The more precise the fit, the more effortlessly the door opens. Our job is to open. That's all. The wind enters on its own, as it wills.
Legend has it Adam came alive by God breathing life through Adam's nostrils. Nothing's changed.
It is still this way. We don't breathe: we are breathed by forces from without and within. Think about it. Do you breathe when you are asleep? Do you breathe when you are eating? Breathing is an act of grace.
Paradoxically, home is not a place. It's a space. It's, potentially, wherever we are.
But often we don't know where we are. It is as if we're frantically looking for our glasses when, all along, they're sitting on our nose. They're so close, they're out of sight.
We are the last place we look.
A peaceful body is an unafraid body. It senses its source, its larger body, as a baby senses its mother or father cradling them in their arms. A peaceful body is a safe body.
A peaceful body is a trustful body. It lets itself be touched by the world, and immediately and fully a peaceful body touches the world back. It doesn't retain itself, doesn't withdraw, doesn't run away. It doesn't push against, doesn't fight. It meets. It joins. It receives, even when giving. A peaceful body only receives. It is all it can do. It is not in the least selfish. It is simply open.
A peaceful body is never alone. It senses how it is always in contact, always enjoined, always in touch - a breeze against its face, the warmth of the sun on its shoulders, the ground under its feet. A peaceful body is always in good company.
A peaceful body knows that its outer body, to which it is attached, wears out and dies, and that peaceful bodies don't. They live on through others.