Longings In Present

Rhythms of past, longings in present. In the heat of summer; when the space between mountain ranges turns pressure cooker. Or early Fall, when the Santa Ana winds blow hot and dry, cracking lips and emptying souls. Throwing backpack with book and sweatshirt onto the seat I’d head north in my white AMC Hornet.

Fernweh is the German word for hungering; for distant lands, new horizons, and experiences. Could it be that the longing is for place; a stake where heart is whole, mind is still and God is present?  I drove to a place I already knew. A place moisture crept in from the ocean, where mist welcomed morning. There was a smell; unique enough so that anyone who’s ever been to the central California coast; if it were bottled and opened you’d know the place.

Strangers and exiles of the Earth we’re called in Hebrews. Those who seek a country. A far country as Peterson puts it and that U2 is still searching for. I’d set out knowing it was a place that imperfectly satisfied. Where wrestling and upheavals were brought to God in a spot that touched on my longing.

Along the way there was a restaurant. God met me there too. Always the Chili Omelet. Over the years the menu went through a series of name changes but; always, at heart, it was a chili omelet.  Accompanied by fresh ground coffee and a glass of cold, squeezed, orange juice. God meets His people not only in place, but in wine and water, bread and manna.

In my mornings now and in this new season of hunger I’m trying to capture that sense of place. To find a locale, a routine, a spot that I can venture too or model at home. Nowadays the heart seems full of anxious jitters. To find a spot to settle it; quiet it and calm it down is my desire. To sense God or reawaken my awareness of His presence. A spot where I feel less a stranger even if it’s in fifteen-minute increments with my raisin toast and coffee. I suspect it’s more about finding routine and being present with my hungering heart. In Hebrews it’s written, “If they had been thinking about that country from which they’d went out-they could have returned.”

I always returned home from the central coast. I could have moved there but it wasn’t home. It was a slice of Heaven, a shadow of things to come. That’s the deal with being a pilgrim; you’re always searching for that place to land. Living with present longings; looking to future hope.

The Pleasure of Breathing

 “As easy as breathing,” it’s said. Is it really? We understand the saying, take it at face value. We see the movie scene of the newborn, swat on the butt and baby’s breathing. That doesn’t mean it will do it right. Or that it won’t stop (God forbid). The American Lung Association says we take 20,000 breaths per day. Twenty-thousand times a day we do something wrong or inefficiently---maybe.

I was shy of ten years old when I learned I was breathing wrong; terribly wrong. Half-filling my lungs without involving stomach or diaphragm. With asthma, amazing that I got air at all. A friend of my mother, a visiting physical therapist, spent one summer training me to breathe correctly. I remember him placing a book on my stomach so I'd move it up with each breath. Difficult to do it correctly, To do it efficiently; not for most of us. Especially if we’re a singer, swimmer or brass player.

Swimmer Michael Phelps is said to have a lung capacity of twelve liters; twice that of the average human. Still he requires oxygen. In most sports the typical respiratory rate is between 50 and 70 breaths per minute. In swimming, the typical respiration rate is anywhere from 16 to 30 breaths per minute. To swim one has to breathe differently. The same is true for singers and brass players who must learn to use the full body, from cheek to diaphragm, to produce quality sound.

“Breathing,” says Alexander Lowen is “easily and fully is one of the basic pleasures of being alive.” Have you known the terror of not breathing? Cast down under an ocean wave; choking on a piece of food? Contemplating a discussion with God Job says, “He would crush me with a storm, He would not let me catch my breath.” In the love song, All of Me, Legend sings “I’m underwater but I’m breathing fine.” Our breath so wrapped up in our passions and physical bodies.

As easy as falling in love I’ve heard people say. It’s really not. Maybe it’s like breathing. Breathing is delightful. Lowen says breathing has a sexual quality. Breathing involves all of me. To do it right is quite difficult. To be deprived of it; deadly.

Photo by Brian Matangelo on Unsplash