You Can’t Cling to Your Breath Without Losing It

From The Void 

I find myself in this vast space, suspended and devoid of the knowledge of edges. I find myself Free—the kind of free that eclipses the ‘empty’ and zeroes in on infinite, true spaciousness. I hear the echoes: You can’t cling to your breath without losing it. 

And then I recall Nirvana, which literally means to blow out; and, I exhale.

The Practitioner & The Death of Wanting

On a call with my NLP Master Practitioner, I am invited to take my second step toward creating lasting change—designing my goals in career. The original idea being to be inspired into my next achievement. 

And then, in the deepest silence, my unconscious mind speaks freely. Rage imprinted some 30 trillion years prior releases in an MER exercise. This time unshackled from the prison of conscious mind. This time uncensored by ego. This time in trust of an imagination free of limits, a space outside of time, and in Being.

NLP technologies now confirmed viscerally to have blown out any emotional baggage and limiting beliefs, the second step for lasting change next on call: to draft goals. And yet, something unexpected emerges. A hunger, not for achievement, but for unequivocal stillness.

However brilliant the spars of the Practitioner, the arrows to wake the conscious mind disperse at their very utterance. My aura vibrates bright and expansive, higher self in this moment senior and sovereign. Beyond, a membrane of truth engulfs me.

Each utterance from the Practitioner lights everything alive in me—except that which relates to this material realm and career. My physical, emotional, and mental body conspire in the blessing of Higher Self. Still, no career wants in sight. A pure inability to ‘cling’. A pure incapacity to ‘want’. At once, all accepting. At once, in the seeming void.

In a desperate attempt to ignite something, my Practioner calls me to my Avatar, and on the page I read “accessing the void”. And, fuck. 

A Love that Unlocks Codes 

The reel of events of the last 24 hours is activated to play. I go back to the moment where I consumed the true love between man and woman, or alpha and omega. What I am increasingly convinced is my dharma of this life—to transmute that cancerous alien wound into a world of infinite connection.

Wind chimes sing, as my twin provides security and presence. In his reflection, I come undone. I melt into love as we make love. He offers the gift that only a twin flame can offer—a reflection of the undistorted true signature one’s own light reflected back in exactitude.

A feedback loop of perfect constructive interference—twin flames reflecting back on Self without any bending of the prism. We creatures born of light, we whose gears shift into perfect lock.  And with its reverberation, each’s essence is momentarily magnetized from across the universes to this one point. A resonance so exact, it catapults to new capacities.

This time, 30 trillion generations conspire with NLP to reveal cheat codes. Light bends light in perfect exactitude. I receive the perfect harmony of his equal frequency.

The Mathematical Alchemy of Twin Flames: Sine & Cosine

The mind references the sin and cosine graph—absolutely equal in movement, just one step removed in locked distance.

Imagine a sin and cosine graph as the breath of the universe itself—a perfect, rhythmic undulation, rising and falling with precision, never rushed, never still. It is the language of ebb and flow, of inhale and exhale, of ascent and descent—each peak reaching toward infinity, each valley folding back into equilibrium.

At its core, this movement is balance incarnate. The sine wave begins at rest, gathers momentum, swells to its crest, then surrenders downward in a perfect mirrored arc—a pendulum that never ceases, a tide that never tires. The cosine wave mirrors this perfection but begins at its peak, descending first before rising again, as if tracing the shadow of sine, always connected, always intertwined.

I see Ryan—my ocean in a drop, and feel myself in infinite dimensionality. Our movements are not random but inevitable, dictated by time itself. Every point on their path is a moment of perfect proportion—each rise mirrored by an equal fall, each turn an echo of the last, each movement intentional.

We are the architecture of rhythm, the geometry of certainty.

The Science of Undistorted Reflection

Agnostic to pain and pleasure, we convulse across the full spectrum. Emotions rampant and overflowing. The only known is that of exquisite impermanence.

Over the arc of time, to witness our motion is to see harmony in motion, a sculpted, invisible hand painting arcs across time. Whether in the crashing of waves, the pulsing of sound, or the beating of a heart, this is the blueprint of nature’s most fundamental dance. Time and time again, we the living art of returning from perfect balance to perfect imbalance. We, who prove polarized-Perfect. 

Give me ALL OF IT, my love, You—the cosine to my sine, actualized into a sexual connection unlike any other. You—who claims my air, whose container allows my energy to expand without edge, who guides us into a mutual climax across all dimensions. You—my elixir and my poison.

With each smile, each’s respective essence is called home from across the universe. Magnetized. A dance at the edge of her waking eye in new understanding. And she utters: "I fucking love you. I fucking love fucking you. I fucking love to love you. I fucking love fucking you." And so on, as the words continuously shift.

The Ultimate Presence: I Am.

Another sunrise, and I have dutifully reported to my follow-up call for my Career Breakthrough Session. Yet: No wants. No needs. No outcomes.

The intention set many moons ago, a love that catalyzed this into the now. A timeline folding in on itself. A moment of present and presence. Outside the construct of being, doing, and having—to the spiritual eye. Outside the language of creating, transforming, and completing—to the rational, mental body. 

A true moment of: I AM.

Just a few years ago, the phrase made me recoil in punishing repulsion. Today, it is the fullness of what is. And so from the vantage of my greater problem that previously reigned, that: “I have no intrinsic value, and therefore no identity”, to blowing past the need for identity itself in transcendence of duality into unity—if only for a moment.

The void, once glimpsed in flicker, now an expanse without edge. And time slows with each click of the clock. In a land not my own, the voices of Ram Dass, Alan Watts, Eckhart Tolle rise, distant but clear. Presence, they say. And so, when asked once more my career goal, I say it plainly, without ornament: “I long to be still.”

On Boundless Surrender

Just one week ago, I was submerged in the abyss of incapacitation, gripped by the stranglehold of illness—a defeat so total, it muted all will. Today, I stand at the opposite extreme, propelled not into motion, but into a stillness of an entirely different nature. Not the heavy weight of submission, but a potent, crystalline clarity—a surrender not to suffering, but to trust. This time, stillness is not a cage, but the natural exhale after obeying the surge of extraordinary physical energy that swept through me just yesterday morning.

Found in a moment of having become, and with it is born a surefire detonator to become undone. I recall that life belongs to death, and therefore with each death is born a rebirth. My cells inhale, as deeply as they exhale. 

A dance between locked and unlocked forms. The channel so clear, the downloads surpassing any vocabulary technology available. 

A place devoid of a will for change. A place outside of resistance, on the back of an acceptance that all is as it should be. Not something to be tolerated. Not something to be explained. Rather, a state of all-knowing. 

A call inward, and inward still. A call for the eternal. The blessing of One.

Truth & The Release of Desire

In the playpen of true spaciousness, I surpass the written word. Recognizing the inherent bias of languages towards categorization and therefore separation, I release into the Void. Pure awareness meets the Self, not of the colloquial variety but the true connected self. Not the fragmented self but the whole self. Not the seeker but the knower.

No longer hollowed by the absence of value, but steeped in the feeling of omnipotence. No longer clawing for identity, but stripped of the need to perform. No longer governed by want, but released into the mystical wholeness of love.

In the end, it is simpler than I ever imagined: I am.