Where Inside Meets Outside

In my last post, I wrote about why it's so wonderful to meditate on my breath because breathing is both voluntary and involuntary.  The act of breathing shows that these "opposites"--voluntary and involuntary--are intimately related, almost indistinguishable.

Similarly, my breath is also where my inside meets my outside.  This is where "me, in here" meets "everything, out there".  Breathing unites the opposites of "inside me" and "outside me".  Meditating on my breath helps me learn the truth that, in reality, there isn't much difference between "me" and everything outside of "me".

As I inhale and exhale, when is the air "inside me"?  When does it become part of "me"?  Is it when it first breaks the plane of my nostrils?  Is it "foreign" as it approaches my nostrils?  Is it foreign when it is one thousandth of an inch away from entering my nose?  And then, as soon as it enters my nose, does it become "me"?

Perhaps it remains "foreign" until it is no longer a gas in my lungs.  Maybe it becomes "me" when it passes through cell membranes and enters my bloodstream.  But doesn't this seem to be grasping at a distinction between "inside" and "outside" that doesn't really exist in reality?  It's just humans trying to draw the line between inside and outside?  The "line" isn't there, physically, in the concrete, natural world, just as there is no real, physical line between the state Indiana and the state of Ohio.

Meditation on the breath teaches us that we are like the state of Ohio.  In the concrete world of nature, there s no clear boundary between our state and Indiana.  All boundaries between states are fictions imagined by humans for practical purposes.  Similarly, our bodies are not truly separate from the world around us.  Meditation on the breath forces us to confront the reality that there is no difference between "in here" and "out there".