You want to exercise more, eat better, read more books? Spend more time with your kids, get more sleep and cook more delicious meals at home? Wonderful. Have at it. Me, I'm going a little esoteric, a little vibrational this fine year of our apocalypse. It just seems appropriate. Starting with:
1) Extra moaning
I know people who hold it all in. I know people who never make a peep, who are far too quiet with their expressions of joy and bliss and yum, who think any sort of yelp at the exquisite pains/pleasures of this life is for hippies and porn stars and obnoxious teenagers who won't shut the hell up and turn down that goddamn hippity hoppity musical nonsense.
I feel terribly sad for these people, in no small part because I used to (sort of) be one myself. What a silly way to go through life. What a relief to not have to be that way anymore. I blame Burning Man. I resolve to keep it going, more than ever.
2) Wilder sighing
Heavy sighing is when you think the world is a miserable madhouse of suffering, violence and very little else. Sad sighing is when you think it's just tragic what happened to poor little Kim Kardashian and, oh my goodness, look what's happening to all the puppies and the honeybees and the supercute baby seals.
Wild sighing, on the other hand, is a different beast entirely. More guttural, raw, emerging from just below the genitals and shooting straight up the spinal chord like liquid fire, it pours out the throat like a slow, feral grunt, like you just ate raw unicorn heart from a skewer made of porcelain hummingbird skull you now wish to thank the gods without saying a word. You know?
3) Truer breathing
There's breathing, and there's breathing. There's the everyday, automatic background drudgery, the shallow, mundane inhale/exhale that you take for granted until it finally stops, you fall over in a dusty heap and the gods shrug and go back to their knitting.
And then there's other kind. There's being fully, exquisitely aware of how you're moving life force through your body, through your pores like it was vodka traversing the blood/brain barrier, like cocaine being passed around the Last Supper, like 1,000 naked angels wrapped around your body and they were squeezing you like a divine accordion made of sex and blood and really strange dreams. Choose wisely.
4) Gentler grip
I do it. You do it. Everyone you know does it. We all hold on far too tightly to the things we love, the things we hate, the personal stories we're so desperately convinced of, because if you let go of them, well, what's left?
Who are you, really, without that car, spouse, haircut, job title, attitude, sneer, Facebook status, enemy, body issue, income level, family trauma, abusive relationship, broken heart, need for attention? Who are you when you soften the mad grip and realize the nature of consciousness is an ever fluxive cycle of expansion and contraction, over and over again, forever? Hint: it's not what you think. Isn't that wonderful? Isn't that terrifying?
5) Deeper penetration
Penetration into what, you might ask, shifting hungrily in your chair? Penetration into the meaning. Into the soft and beckoning darkness. Past the surface of things, through the glittery BS of the popular culture, deep into to the engines and the forces that make it all go.
Penetration into the source. What is the source? Consciousness. What is consciousness? You're soaking in it, right now. How do you know? Close your eyes for a moment, sit very still, and try to imagine God and the Devil are sitting around a raging campfire making s'mores, and your heart is the marshmallow. There.
6) Drink the awe
It's a brutally fast-paced, Facebooked, hypertext-drunk world, my loves, and it's just ridiculously easy to take it all for granted, to sit there and type your message into your glorious little device and attach a video and send it halfway round the world as you sip your coffee that came from 8,000 miles away and think nothing of it all, when in fact there are roughly 1,008 astonishing miracles banging around your life right this second if you just were able to realize their wobbly gifts. What a thing.
7) Invert the melancholy
Yes, I know, you're all jaded and wary and sick of it all. The world is corrupt, everyone's out to screw over everyone else, men are tactless pigs and women are manipulative gold-diggers and it's all enough to cast a permanent pall over everything.
Whatever. Choose that if you want to. It's certainly easy. It's also exceedingly lazy...
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Mark Morford is the author of The Daring Spectacle: Adventures in Deviant Journalism, a mega-collection of his finest columns for the San Francisco Chronicle and SFGate. He recently wondered who in your life you find perfectly toxic, cheered that the gay agenda will see you now, and is fairly certain Jesus took magic mushrooms. Join him on Facebook, or email him. Not to mention...
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