Loss, grief and the breath = square one

Last night I picked up a book that has been patiently waiting for me by the bed. It is Donna Farhi's 'Breathing Book'. I started to read it properly for the first time and as I figure I have nothing to lose all to gain I have opened myself to its pages.
If I explore conventional, habitual responses to how I have processed life this year then I may well come up with the conventional, habitual and often harsh remedies to address the flow on effects. Sadly, I have been ignoring the signs and get caught up in long term remedies that I must stick to or....or everything will fall apart even more....
I did a simple 'enquiry' into the movement of the breath paired with body movement and after several entranced minutes felt my inner body open up. I felt better that quickly. I also noticed that my current normal, unconditioned breath, feels like that of a dying bird. It has a strange diagonal pattern through my body as if one side is full of cement or as if I have been bed ridden, compressing one side of my body for some years. It is a weak flutter, shallow I think too; this life source is like a clogged up river. That is this mornings observation. Then, with a few conscious moves of my hands, arms and then spine it was like an orchestra tuning up, the dam broke and for the first while after I stopped I noticed a whole new pathway had been created.
This is my square one; notice what the breath is doing each day. This is what the living do; we get on with the day to day but we always remember those who have passed. The grief for my niece who passed this year has slowly been creeping back into my body and heart. It never left, it's just that I have been so busy in my job covering for my boss who was diagnosed with cancer this year, that I had to shove it somewhere to participate in the day to day. Now she is back on deck (and carrying her own burdens) I have begun to re-grieve again. The disbelief, the shock, all there buried under months of living the daily life.
I know someone who is consciously dying; she had considered her options and decided not to take the medical path of uncertainty and percentages. I cannot imagine how that must be for her; I'm not sure what I would do in the same circumstances. I bow to her courage.
I grieve for the loss of some of my connection to life, to the things that ignite, sustain and inspire me to focus on the big picture and the service of others. I grieve my loss of connection to myself and if I'm not careful, to my loving, patient partner.
So to square one I go. To my meditation cushion I go, and to my yoga mat I go. To the volumes of wisdom that sit patiently on my shelf I go. Where ever I do go, I will start with square one, the breath. For I have everything I could ever need right there.

beginners mind

Wipe the chalk marks from the board, wash with water and a rag if necessary. Maybe a light sanding, a touch up here and there, or perhaps a complete new paint job. Really, what is called for is a complete overhaul; the structure is weak and tired, and surface coverings won't hide the trouble underneath.
It's like this. I have lost my way, again. I have descended into the familiar place of withdrawing from the world. Amazing how painful it is, but the heart knows when it's in trouble, when it is unlikely to be seen or heard, unlikely to feel the radiance of hope and fulfilment. The self-imposed prison of limiting thoughts seems an unlikely place to seek ground, but these are habits of mind finely honed over a lifetime.
Habits not fixed traits; habits which can be released from their groove to play a different track. Awareness, mindfulness, patience and love are the tools. Yoga, meditation, good food and health are required to turn this ship around to calmer waters. I owe it not only to myself but to all around me.