80th of Ashan
’Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Deep breaths. Long exhales. Focus on the breathing. Breathe in, breathe out.’
Han laid flat on his back on the floor of his small home, mentally setting the stage for what would hopefully be a beneficial session of meditation. Meditation was a funny thing- it seemed as if it was universally beneficial, something that you could find done in almost any trade or profession, by people of every background. Yet, it wasn’t the sort of thing that you found a lot of training for. In a way, Han had been doing it is whole life without knowing it. As the darkness welled up in him from time to time, he always found solace in seeking inner peace. It wasn’t until he had already come to Ne’haer that the practice of meditation was truly revealed to him through happenchance. A brief mention in a book that referenced practices for calming your mind had set him on course to start practicing true meditation whenever he had the opportunity. He still lacked much skill or understanding, but he remembered well the few core tenets he had learned.
First, he needed to get alone someplace quiet. This prevented unnecessary distractions, or that was the idea at least. He often still found that distractions were plentiful, but came from his own mind instead. Still, the lack of noise or presence of others was very beneficial. For this reason, Han often chose to conduct his meditations late at night or early in the morning, sparing him from the background cacophony that was part and parcel of living in a large city. This trial he had risen early, as was his usual preference, and laid a blanket out on the floor of his home. He had tried, when he was less practiced, to simply remain in bed, but found that to be a foolish choice when he repeatedly found himself drifting back to sleep after only a few moments of practiced breathing. To combat this tendency, he would lay out his blanket on the wooden floor. It provided enough insulation to be comfortable- allowing him to focus on the meditation more effectively- while being a rigid and unpalatable enough surface that he would not readily sleep on it.
He had already accomplished that step for this session, having laid himself out on the floor the better part of a break ago. At first his mind had raced as it always did prior to meditation. His back was uncomfortable against the rigid ground. He could hear people going about their early morning business out in the streets. The sound of a mouse scuttling across the floor. It was as if his mind feared being calmed and overtaken and was defending itself, forcing him into full alert as a defense mechanism, attempting to distract him in the hopes that he would forget his mission and leave it behind. No such thing would occur this trial.
Second, he would close his eyes and begin to breathe deeply through his nose. This served several purposes. The breathing was very calming and conducive to attaining a peaceful state. It also provided a focus- Han would strive to feel the air entering and leaving his body. To feel the sensation of air being pulled over his mustache and into his nose, to experience the gentle, pleasant stretch of his lungs reaching their capacity, and the relief and release of the long, deep exhale. When he was able to focus on those sensations, it gave him a way to escape his inner machinations and place the full attention of his mind on the external.
This was the stage he was currently in and had been in for some time. Deep breaths were inhaled and exhaled in a slow but steady rhythm, his chest rising and falling gently and fully with each one. At first, it was just breathing, and yawning was common while the vestiges of sleep still clung to him. But over time, it became something slightly more than that. As he focused on the physical sensations of breathing, he first felt the cool wind being drawn in and released over the hair of his mustache. A few breaths more and his mental gaze had progressed into his nose, feeling the gentle cool tickle within. Before long he was feeling the progress of the air around him all the way into his lungs as his awareness increased. As he slipped further along, his awareness of the outside world faded in kind. After nearly a break had passed, it was as if all their was in the world was the breath in his lungs, and his mind was black and blank.
Third, once he had begun, he would shift his focus inward. Though he still often found that he had trouble consistently getting to a true meditative state without it taking nearly an entire break, once he was in he would sift through his own thoughts, ideas, and emotions. He found that it was very easy for him in these times to treat things, even important things, dispassionately. He could process all the things that lay in the corners of his consciousness, resolving issues that were taxing him and centering himself emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. It was in this state that he often had more frequent encounters with his darker feelings and ideas, the kinds of things that he worked tirelessly to keep below the surface. Although interacting with this side of him was difficult and sometimes draining, it was utterly necessary, and he embraced this skill of meditation which allowed him to, in some capacity, interact directly with it and quell it for a time.
He now entered a true state of meditation as his thoughts, feelings, and impulses rose back up to fill the void left by the absence of the outside world. Breathing was on autopilot now, and his focus was fully within. A myriad of recent memories and random impulses broke upon him like waves upon a rocky shore. One by one he examined and acknowledged them before moving along. Before long he came to a mostly good recent memory, the day he had met the young Tunawa girl Juniper. He relished in their relatively sundry conversation and activities before his mind was drawn to a particular detail- her missing arm. It had been taken by pirates while she was held captive on their vessel. Within moments his thoughts, once bright and full of life, were tinged with the red and black of anger and malice. A particular thought that had gone through his mind that day returned in more force now.
’You know what would solve this problem? Killing them. A dead man can't hurt anyone....
He’d been able to quell the thought in the moment, and having good company made it easier for him to redirect away from the darkness. But there was no company now, and he faced the challenge that in so many ways had defined him for his entire life: he must overcome his darker desires, lest he be consumed by them.
But that was not the way Han had chosen. In his youth he lived a volatile existence- indulging his desires at times, fighting them back at others. He had killed- some deserved it, and some did not. He had also relented- some deserved it, some did not. But in the end, he had chosen the path of mercy. He believed that by caring for those who might some day turn to their own inner darkness, he could prevent it from ever happening. He could save those who were not even born from the possibility of being raised in the world he had been born into. When he had chosen violence, he saw only an ever expanding problem, and never a true solution. When you exacted bloody justice on anyone, no matter how deserving, there would always be one more to challenge you. One more person needing saving. And before long you were killing people whose only crime was making an enemy of the person who could spin the best story. No, he must be better than that. He must create a true solution- the eradication of the problem entirely.
As his darkness spoke, it grew ever louder and more vibrant, slowly engulfing Han's whole being.
“No!” At this thought, Han was so incensed that he snapped out of his meditation entirely, sitting up and roaring in denial as he did. As he sat there, breathing heavier than he remembered, he shook with anger and fear. He had done battle with the darkness in him, and though such things only happened in increments, he had most certainly lost. His inner enemy had a foothold now, and one that would not be so easily uprooted. As he tried to clear his mind and get on with his day, the final thoughts of his meditation echoed in his mind. ’Because of you… Because of you… Because of you…’
’Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Deep breaths. Long exhales. Focus on the breathing. Breathe in, breathe out.’
Han laid flat on his back on the floor of his small home, mentally setting the stage for what would hopefully be a beneficial session of meditation. Meditation was a funny thing- it seemed as if it was universally beneficial, something that you could find done in almost any trade or profession, by people of every background. Yet, it wasn’t the sort of thing that you found a lot of training for. In a way, Han had been doing it is whole life without knowing it. As the darkness welled up in him from time to time, he always found solace in seeking inner peace. It wasn’t until he had already come to Ne’haer that the practice of meditation was truly revealed to him through happenchance. A brief mention in a book that referenced practices for calming your mind had set him on course to start practicing true meditation whenever he had the opportunity. He still lacked much skill or understanding, but he remembered well the few core tenets he had learned.
First, he needed to get alone someplace quiet. This prevented unnecessary distractions, or that was the idea at least. He often still found that distractions were plentiful, but came from his own mind instead. Still, the lack of noise or presence of others was very beneficial. For this reason, Han often chose to conduct his meditations late at night or early in the morning, sparing him from the background cacophony that was part and parcel of living in a large city. This trial he had risen early, as was his usual preference, and laid a blanket out on the floor of his home. He had tried, when he was less practiced, to simply remain in bed, but found that to be a foolish choice when he repeatedly found himself drifting back to sleep after only a few moments of practiced breathing. To combat this tendency, he would lay out his blanket on the wooden floor. It provided enough insulation to be comfortable- allowing him to focus on the meditation more effectively- while being a rigid and unpalatable enough surface that he would not readily sleep on it.
He had already accomplished that step for this session, having laid himself out on the floor the better part of a break ago. At first his mind had raced as it always did prior to meditation. His back was uncomfortable against the rigid ground. He could hear people going about their early morning business out in the streets. The sound of a mouse scuttling across the floor. It was as if his mind feared being calmed and overtaken and was defending itself, forcing him into full alert as a defense mechanism, attempting to distract him in the hopes that he would forget his mission and leave it behind. No such thing would occur this trial.
Second, he would close his eyes and begin to breathe deeply through his nose. This served several purposes. The breathing was very calming and conducive to attaining a peaceful state. It also provided a focus- Han would strive to feel the air entering and leaving his body. To feel the sensation of air being pulled over his mustache and into his nose, to experience the gentle, pleasant stretch of his lungs reaching their capacity, and the relief and release of the long, deep exhale. When he was able to focus on those sensations, it gave him a way to escape his inner machinations and place the full attention of his mind on the external.
This was the stage he was currently in and had been in for some time. Deep breaths were inhaled and exhaled in a slow but steady rhythm, his chest rising and falling gently and fully with each one. At first, it was just breathing, and yawning was common while the vestiges of sleep still clung to him. But over time, it became something slightly more than that. As he focused on the physical sensations of breathing, he first felt the cool wind being drawn in and released over the hair of his mustache. A few breaths more and his mental gaze had progressed into his nose, feeling the gentle cool tickle within. Before long he was feeling the progress of the air around him all the way into his lungs as his awareness increased. As he slipped further along, his awareness of the outside world faded in kind. After nearly a break had passed, it was as if all their was in the world was the breath in his lungs, and his mind was black and blank.
Third, once he had begun, he would shift his focus inward. Though he still often found that he had trouble consistently getting to a true meditative state without it taking nearly an entire break, once he was in he would sift through his own thoughts, ideas, and emotions. He found that it was very easy for him in these times to treat things, even important things, dispassionately. He could process all the things that lay in the corners of his consciousness, resolving issues that were taxing him and centering himself emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. It was in this state that he often had more frequent encounters with his darker feelings and ideas, the kinds of things that he worked tirelessly to keep below the surface. Although interacting with this side of him was difficult and sometimes draining, it was utterly necessary, and he embraced this skill of meditation which allowed him to, in some capacity, interact directly with it and quell it for a time.
He now entered a true state of meditation as his thoughts, feelings, and impulses rose back up to fill the void left by the absence of the outside world. Breathing was on autopilot now, and his focus was fully within. A myriad of recent memories and random impulses broke upon him like waves upon a rocky shore. One by one he examined and acknowledged them before moving along. Before long he came to a mostly good recent memory, the day he had met the young Tunawa girl Juniper. He relished in their relatively sundry conversation and activities before his mind was drawn to a particular detail- her missing arm. It had been taken by pirates while she was held captive on their vessel. Within moments his thoughts, once bright and full of life, were tinged with the red and black of anger and malice. A particular thought that had gone through his mind that day returned in more force now.
’You know what would solve this problem? Killing them. A dead man can't hurt anyone....
He’d been able to quell the thought in the moment, and having good company made it easier for him to redirect away from the darkness. But there was no company now, and he faced the challenge that in so many ways had defined him for his entire life: he must overcome his darker desires, lest he be consumed by them.
’It’s true, and you know it is. This lie you’re trying to live is just a facade, and even if you won’t admit it, you know it. Remember mother and father? Remember the day we were set free? The steel and fire and blood that brought us hope and life. THAT is what people need. Yet you waste precious time with your charity and good will. You-’
Though it was not its own entity in the truest sense, the strong and constant repression and division Han had imposed upon himself and his mind had given rise to the tendency for his mind to speak on its own in these times. It was a voice that was felt, not heard. Where Han’s inner thoughts were often ones of gentleness and harmony, this voice was one of force and rage. If his mind was a physical place, it would have felt like an earthquake, or the march of an approaching army. It intimidated Han, striking fear into him and vying for control.‘NO. You will not have your way. We must be better. Violence only begets more violence. It must stop. It WILL stop.’
With uncharacteristic force he spat back at himself, rallying all the force he could to do so. It was a battle not of two wills, but two desires: To kill, or not to kill. Ever since the day Han had been set free from his abusive guardians by what seemed like the hand of fate itself, he had been imbued with a deep desire to bring justice through bloodshed. After all, it had been done just so for him. How many more languished now, raped, killed, and corrupted to the uttermost by those who had been charged with their care? How many slaves cowered beneath the sword of their masters? How many lost their lives and livelihoods to highwaymen, pirates, and gangsters? A little steel could do a world of good.But that was not the way Han had chosen. In his youth he lived a volatile existence- indulging his desires at times, fighting them back at others. He had killed- some deserved it, and some did not. He had also relented- some deserved it, some did not. But in the end, he had chosen the path of mercy. He believed that by caring for those who might some day turn to their own inner darkness, he could prevent it from ever happening. He could save those who were not even born from the possibility of being raised in the world he had been born into. When he had chosen violence, he saw only an ever expanding problem, and never a true solution. When you exacted bloody justice on anyone, no matter how deserving, there would always be one more to challenge you. One more person needing saving. And before long you were killing people whose only crime was making an enemy of the person who could spin the best story. No, he must be better than that. He must create a true solution- the eradication of the problem entirely.
’You grow bold, but your boldness is a poor mask for your desperation.'
As his darkness spoke, it grew ever louder and more vibrant, slowly engulfing Han's whole being.
'We both know the temptations you feel will triumph over your misguided “decency” in the end. Think about this city.
Think about all those you’ve fed, housed, and loved. Does it look like you’re on the winning side of this fight to you? Does it even look like this place has changed AT ALL? No, it has not and it never will- not without bloodshed. We cannot wish away human nature. You know this to be true. Stop this foolishness!
Every face you have saved will die and you will leave behind NO legacy! We will be forgotten and the world will remain depraved and it will be
because of YOU!’
“No!” At this thought, Han was so incensed that he snapped out of his meditation entirely, sitting up and roaring in denial as he did. As he sat there, breathing heavier than he remembered, he shook with anger and fear. He had done battle with the darkness in him, and though such things only happened in increments, he had most certainly lost. His inner enemy had a foothold now, and one that would not be so easily uprooted. As he tried to clear his mind and get on with his day, the final thoughts of his meditation echoed in his mind. ’Because of you… Because of you… Because of you…’
