Just breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. Clear your head. Take in O2. Give out CO2.
Breathing is the most primal of man’s instincts. Breathing means you are alive. It means you have life, be it a vegetative life, a life of a robot, or be it a life full of vibrance.
When you are born, you start breathing without being taught how to, and you continue to do so till you die. You do so through pain, suffering, grief and hurt. You do so through smiles, laughter and tears of joy.
Breathing drives us on and on. It symbolizes that life never stops, that life moves on — always; you are but a tiny blip on the time scale.
Yet each breath you take, coupled with that of others, is the driving force behind life’s ongoing journey. It is life in itself.
So effectively, life keeps you going, and at the same time, you keep life going. Beautiful, innit?
Every day I wake up, pass through the daily routines, the motions that make-up our day; my moods change. Mercurial is the word.
It is all in the mind, or so they say. But for those who find themselves in the centre of the mood swings, it is not so. It is in the body, in the blood rushing through your ears, in the irregular — sometimes fast, sometimes slow — beating of the heart. It is in the infrequent nerve twitches, the pangs of hunger, the shrieks of pain, the tugging of the gut — an inexplicable phenomenon, the neediness of the groin, the oily-dry smoothness of the skin, the ridges of goosebumps, the batting of eyelids. It is in every breath you take.
Yes, it is also in the air around you, the people surrounding you, the place you’re in, and the situation.
But, I’d like to look inside me, for therein lies the answer, lies the antidote.
So, what do you do? You clear your mind; sift through the junk of memories and experiences you collected; you understand how that has really made you feel — every minute feel of the feeling, its roughness, ridges and smooth softness. And you understand how these have changed you.
You get overwhelmed by some larger-than-life feelings; sometimes under-whelmed by the surprising lack of impact or effect by something you purportedly loved.
You break your own ground rules — the rules of your core values of life. You pull the rug from under your own feet. You rearrange the blocks of your life, even the building blocks. You may scream and run away from the painful consequences of omitting something that you loved. You may have tears of joy streaming down your face. Or, you may be perfectly still.
But above and beyond all that — you breathe. You breathe life, love, happiness, freedom, joy and hope, together with death, hurt, sorrow, and helplessness.
You just breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. And let go.