In the haze of deep summer’s afternoon sun, the heft of moist heat chokes my lungs. Water, Earth’s life-giving ingredient, tips the balance by edging out oxygen, Earth’s other life-giving gift. The viscous atmosphere resists, pushing back as I push forward. Overcoming it’s force – just barely, I enter the artificial, airy oasis of my living room.
Once inside, the walls, floor and even the air vibrates as the air conditioner hums a steady song of cool comfort. Fans join in concert amplifying that song throughout the house, each harmonizing a sonorous drone like a Gregorian chant spun from scratched vinyl. My body finds brief comfort … until perpetual noise binds my conscious mind.
Changes run hard and swift through my life. They always have. And, as summer edges on, I begin to resist even those I seek. My shoulders lock tight, my breath runs shallow. Success. Change ceases to occur - but only in places that long for movement. I’m rendered stuck in my natural being and paralyzed by the constant motion of everything around me – too many commitments, too many promises, seeking change in all the wrong places. But this is not who I am. It’s a product of what I fear. The irony? I fear being stuck.
Breath Changes. Everything.
The only way through to me is to breathe – to breathe and reconnect with my own unique and natural rhythm. As this stifling season of my being transitions with new and colorful change, new awareness and opportunity has arrived. Breath has become my change agent for good. It’s now my job. And, when I forget to breathe, I surround myself with others who breathe through every inch of their spines. I have good people, my neighboring North American Beaver, and his firefly friends to remind me.
Perhaps this beautifully fluid moment with nature will remind you too…
We must all breathe and float before we can swim and fly.