Keep Breathing

A service titled ‘Keep Breathing’, led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall, with readings given by Lochlann Binney, John Humphreys, Juliet Edwards, Jasmine Cooray and Azita Chellappoo, and music from Grace Cross and Andrew Robinson.

Transcript

SPEAKER_03 3:29

In this familiar place, listen to the sounds of breathing creaking chairs, shuffling feet, clearing throats, and sighing all around. Know that each breath, each movement, the glance meant for you or intercepted holds alive within it. These are signs that we choose to be in this company. We have things to say to each other. Things not yet said, but in each other's presence still. Trembling behind our hearts' doors, these doors closed but unlocked. Each silent thing waiting on the threshold between unknowing and knowing. Between being hidden and being known. Find the silence among these people and listen to it. Listen to it all. The breathing, the sighs, the movement and the holding back. Hear the tears that have not yet reached the eyes. Perhaps they're your own. Hear the laughter building deep where joy abides despite everything. These words from Barbara Peskin. Welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those of you here in the building at Essex Church and all who are joining via Zoom from far and wide. Indeed, tuning in at a later date on YouTube. For anyone who doesn't know me, my name is Jane Blackhall and I am minister with Kensington Unitarian. Our service this morning is titled Keep Breathing. Over the next hour we'll reflect on the power of the breath as a spiritual anchor amid the storms of life. I hope this will be a gentle and contemplative hour, almost impressionistic, as we draw on the insights of wise teachers and the more oblique wisdom revealed in poetry. We take time to sing and meditate and pray and breathe together. Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness. Perhaps take a breath, a conscious breath and set aside anything we don't need to be worrying about for the next hour. It's a simple ritual and it connects us with Unitarians and Unitarian diverse lists the world over, and it reminds us of the proudly progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part. As a reminder of the connection that draws us in to a community that opens us up. In gratitude for the breath in our lungs, the love in our hearts, and for the gift of this day alive. Time to sing now. Our first hymn today is number 147 in your purple books, Spirit of Earth, Root, Stone, and Tree. Lovely hymn for a summer's day, I think. If you're on Zoom, the words will be up on screen. Stand or sit as you prefer and sing up as you are able. And they invite us to focus on the breath as part of our prayer practice. So you might want to adjust your position, put down anything you don't need to be holding. You might want to close your eyes or soften your gaze. Perhaps there's a posture that helps you to feel more settled and centred. Whatever helps you to get into the right state of body and mind to pray together now and be fully present to yourself, to each other, and to that which lies within us and beyond us. Spirit of life, God of all love, in whom we live and move and have our being. Let us pause in that stillness to rest for a while. To quiet ourselves so that we can feel what stirs within. Each breath draws us closer to the pulse of life. And with each exhalation we make room for something new. May we find in this gathering the comfort of those who care. May we encounter patience along our growing edges and compassion in our most tender spots. When life presses in and shifts us off balance, when pain assails us and frustration mounts. May the rhythm of our breath steady us and bring us back to a place of gratitude. Here in this community of the spirit, may we find the inspiration and encouragement we need to face our challenges and nurture ourselves. And in the presence of suffering around the world, may we redouble our efforts to practice kindness and justice right where we are. With the hope that the light of our actions will travel like the light of faraway stars and reach far beyond our knowing. And let us hold all these sacred beings in the light of love. Let us also pray for ourselves. For we two are sacred beings who face our own struggles and muddle through life as best we can. So let us take a moment more to reflect on our own lives and ask for what we most need this day. Perhaps comfort or forgiveness or guidance. What we most need to flourish. All those moments this past week where we've encountered generosity, kindness, or pleasure. Let us cultivate a spirit of gratitude as we recall all those moments that have lifted our spirits and let us take in what's good. Spirit of life, God of all love. As this time of prayer draws to a close, we offer up our joys and concerns, our hopes and our fears, our beauty and our brokenness. And we call on you for insight, healing, and renewal. As we look forward now to the coming week, help us to live well each day and be our best selves using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice, and peace. Amen. Time to sing again. Our second hymn today is number 111 in your purple books, based on the words of St. Francis, O Brother, Son, Sister Moon, Hymn 111.

SPEAKER_00 18:51

This piece by Yu Yu Buddhist Cat Liu opens with a well-known saying by taking that hand. Breathing in, there is only the present moment. Breathing out, it is a wonderful moment. When I heard the venerable's robes rustle at what I estimated to be about 40 minutes, and yet she did not give the signal that our sitting meditation had ended. That's when I knew she would take us to the full hour. But my knees were complaining, and my mind was bored with counting breaths. What to do in the time remaining? Suddenly, a stray thought entered. What if this was your last breath? Funny thing, I immediately began to breathe slower, drawing in the air to fill every crevice of my lungs, and then slowly pushing it out until there was nothing left to excel. Well, I thought, I must want to live. Of course, when I got to the end of that last breath, I was still there. So I began another breath, still asking, what if this were your last breath? There were flashes of regret, unfinished projects, loved ones grieving. But one breath isn't enough time to do anything about regret. There was only enough time to experience the moment, to know that I was there grieving. Inhalation, exhalation. When the moment passed, it was the next moment. And the next. In this way, I spent the remaining twenty minutes entirely in the present. Outside of the meditation hall, we still plan for the future and think of the past. But so often we replay past regrets and worry about future events to the point where we're no longer present in the present. As the Venerable says, we forget that we are breathing. When stuck in traffic, waiting in line, or any time there's nothing to do other than be present. Find a comfortable position in which you can breathe freely. Consider what if this were your last breath? Just for this moment. Believe that this is all you have. No time to worry about the future or the past. Just enough time to know that you are breathing. Inhalation.

SPEAKER_03 22:11

Okay, as we move into meditation, we're going to do something slightly different today. On your hymn sheet, your cream hymn sheet in the room, you have the words of a sung meditation on breathing. I know at least some of you are already familiar with this one. The words are very simple. When I breathe in, I'll breathe in peace. When I breathe out, I'll breathe out love. And there's an even simpler drone part which repeats breathe in, breathe out on one note. You can choose any of the three lines, the melody, the desk can or the drone, and stick with it, or you can switch willy-nilly between the three, which is what I like to do. When it comes to chanting, I have a policy, and that's to keep chanting long enough that the chant has its chance to work on it. That means long enough that people who haven't sung it before have a chance to learn the tune, long enough for those who know it to get bored, and still keep going round and round until we've come out the other side of boredom. I'm going to keep track of how long we're singing so you don't have to worry about when we're going to end. I'm going to sit down when we chant, and when I think we're going to come to a close, I'll stand up and just finish the line you're on, and then we'll draw it to a close. And after that, we'll move into our three minutes of shared silence, during which you might like to continue focusing on the breath. Silence will end with a sound of a bell, and then we'll hear some more lovely music from Grace. So, all that said, Andrew and Edmund, let's uh practice the melody line first, if that's all right. So, what I'm gonna suggest is perhaps we all start on the melody and then you break out into the other parts as and when you see it see fit, and when we're all done, when I think we've done enough, I'll stand up and then we bring it to a close. You'll pick it up as you go, I think, Harriet.

SPEAKER_02 36:15

This uh reading is adapted and is some excerpts from Breath by David White. Breath is a word that wants us to live in our mouths in the same way that it can live in our own bodies without undue effort and left to itself, relying on the easy, rested, autonomic give and take of the body itself. Real rest is the breath simply looking after itself and looking after everything else as it does it. Breath is not only an invitation into the body, but the essence of the way we already know how to live in that body. Easy, relaxed breathing always leads to surprise at how centered we already are, how unhurried we are underneath it all, how patient we never knew we could be. Breath is the very first thing we give to this world, and the very last thing we are allowed to take from it. Breathing is what we do before we understand a single thing about our world, and the last thing we will do despite all of our hard-won wisdom. The first breath an infant takes and the last breath they will take are both seen intuitively, no matter our beliefs, no matter if we are religious or not, as moments of pure holiness. Whether their life in between could be described that way or not. Breath bookends our life, but also every single moment of our lives. Between each breath is where everything happens, and where, if we really inhabit the breath, everything that happens is magnified. Breath is the essence of generosity in its thankless companionship and the emblem of faithfulness in its constant visiting and its momentary, merciful absences, fetching and carrying for us without our thanks or appreciation. Inviting and reassuring, no matter our outward difficulties. Breath is one of the few dynamics in our willful lives that works constantly on our behalf without needing coercion, praise, or forceful encouragement. Breath invites us to live our life as generously and as easily in its giving and taking as breath itself. Breath is the unquenchable source of both visible and invisible help in our days, giving when we do not ask, teaching us with each in breath how to receive when we feel we do not deserve to receive. Breath anchors and holds us practically in the rhythm of time and the rhythm in uh in each and every moment of our days, while holding within its amplitude and depth. Breath is the alpha and omega of our being, the essence of our ability to give and to receive. Breath sustains our everyday practical existence while beckoning us into the deeper, timeless tidal rhythms beyond any possibility glimpsed in our everyday life. Breath is a parable telling us how to live, how to give and receive, and how in the most restful way to let it all go in the end. Every breath fully taken is our daily unconscious reconnaissance of the invisible frontier between life and that mysterious, literally breathtaking giving up we have giving up. We have only arbitrarily decided what to call a death.

SPEAKER_03 40:37

I think it's five years since we've sung this, so I'm gonna ask Andrew to play it through before we sing.

SPEAKER_06 40:42

Breath of God, breathing room by James Cruz. There should be a room in every house or office building set aside strictly for breathing, not speaking aloud. No phones, clocks or other devices may be brought inside. Let the walls be emptied and white, only potted ferns stirring near the windows thrown open to a night breeze bearing the scents of jasmine and lilac. You can count, if you like, until your heartbeat slows to its own natural pace, and your minds as blank as a page in the back of a book. If someone asks for directions, say it's a throom at the end of the house. Nothing else in it but a few plants. All the air you can breathe.

SPEAKER_07 44:23

Blessing of breathing by Jan Richardson. That the first breath will come without fear. That the second breath will come without pain. The third breath that it will come without despair, and the fourth without anxiety. That the fifth breath will come with no bitterness. That the sixth breath will come for joy. Breath seven that it will come for love. May the eighth breath come for freedom, and the ninth for delight. When the tenth breath comes, may it be for us to breathe together and the next and the next until our breathing is as one, until our breathing is no more.

SPEAKER_04 45:37

That first breath must be delicious. It must be more tantalizing, more intoxicating than any drug. Fragrant like no flower will ever be, enticing like no body scent. It must be all of this and more. Yet without words or memories, how do we know? That first glorious rush of air wants us to keep breathing, wants our hearts to keep beating, wants our eyes to open and to see, wants our souls to open and to say, yes. The first breath wants us to live all our life saying, please God, let me live, let me breathe for just one day more until we breathe our very last.

SPEAKER_03 46:45

Just as long as I have breath, I must answer yes to life. Thanks to Ramona for hosting under stressful circumstances. Thanks to Charlotte for co-hosting online, thanks to Grace for lovely music, thanks to Andrew for accompanying our hymns. It's alright, it's not a mass walkout, it's just people going to make the tea. Did I get as far as thanking Edwin for supporting our team? Thank you, Edwin. Yes, thanks to uh Azita and Anna who have gone out to make the tea. Thanks to Julia who had a little shop greeting you in the foyer. Um if you're online, stay for a chat with Charlotte if you can. If you're here in person, please do stay for tea and cake. I've made Victoria Sponge and Carrot Squiggle Cake. After the service at one, we've got our summer stylistice labyrinth mini retreat. Um that's led by me and Sarah. We could squeeze one or two more people in if anyone wants to stay for that who hasn't already signed up. Tonight on Friday, we've got our online heart and soul contemplative spiritual gathering, which is on the frame of praise. Sign up with me if you want the link. Our walking group seems doomed. This is the fourth time this year we've had to cancel due to extreme weather or tube strikes. There is no uh walk happening this Tuesday. We've given it up as a bad job for the summer. We'll try again in September. The Better World Book Club is reading just about coping, and you've just about got time to read it before next Sunday, I think. That's by Natalie Crawley. Let me know if you want to come, if you haven't had the link. Uh the LDPA, our London District Association, has got a spot to walk in the London Pride Parade on Saturday, the 4th of July. So if you want to march with the Unitarian banner, let them know. Uh Vita is offering a Sunday afternoon workshop on Indian head massage on the 5th of July. Sign up for that if you want to go. And next Sunday, our service is titled Little by Little, and it will be followed by uh Finding Our Voice Singing with Margaret. So plenty going on. As always, the congregation's very much got a life beyond Sunday morning, so do what you can to look out for each other and build those nurturing connections. As we extinguish our chalice flame, may its hopeful light all remain with us, encouraging our spirits and guiding our steps. Let us carry forth the strength of this community, the courage to speak truth and live with integrity, and the hope that transformation is possible. And in each breath we take, may we remember that the work of love, justice, and healing is ours to do, both here and beyond these walls. Go in peace with the light of this gathering to illuminate your way.