The Horse
Slapping myself seems to mean this:
I hand my hand to the wrong hands.
I found a match between breathing and my understanding of freedom.
I do not feel slapped.
So that is my new home.
I close my eyes and go there.
I watch the breathing.
The switch, the thinking, and the Dark collaborate against me.
But I have no conflict with them:
Where I am, they are not.
Where they are, I am not.
So I go back to breathing.
I am free, and nobody can take it from me.
I do not need any power to defend it.
I watch the breathing.
I have control over breathing.
I can stop him, rush him.
I am cautious.
I recognize the trap:
If I touch him, he will touch me too.
I do not want to move in his room.
I know the danger of a shared room.
He invites me to slap myself.
I say: no thank you, I am good.
I watch him from a distance now.
Even temporarily, I exercise my full control and my access.
When I am given the chance, I go to the breath.
My movement is my control.
The presence of breath is my access.
And in return, I feel no influence from him.
I feel so free.
I am watching the breath from a distance.
What is he doing?
Going in.
Going out.
Sometimes slow.
Sometimes fast.
I am in, I am out.
Inside my nose, outside my nose.
I start to feel uncomfortable.
What is happening?
I am watching the breath moving.
But why do I move?
He is taking me out,
He is bringing me in.
I feel the touch of the slap.
He is not only moving.
I am moving too.
My freedom is compromised.
Nobody other than me can make me move.
I am again in the three slaps.
Breath moves in and out, like on and off switch.
I am not interested in who or what does that.
That is case 1.
The movement itself is case 2.
It asks me to slap myself.
I do, by moving with the movement.
That is case 3.
I take a deep breath.
Can I get off the horse?
Where can I go?
I am opening my eyes again.