Breath, life.

As I laid on the floor in a relaxation pose at the end of a yoga class last week, I felt the floor holding my body up. I felt my breath cause my chest to rise and fall, and noticed that I wasn’t breathing into my stomach. I wondered what I was holding onto, what fear or anxiety, that kept me from breathing deeply.

I never gave a second thought to breath before I started practicing yoga a few years ago. It has been through that practice of breath and movement that I learned what it means to be present, even for a fleeting moment. For someone who teeters on the brink of ADD, it seems to take moving meditation for me to really pay attention.

During my daughter’s birth, it was this breath (maybe combined with extreme pain!) that kept me acutely in the present moment. I was able to drink in every moment, without worrying about what had just happened, or what was to come. In this space, I noticed the presence of God with me as a midwife, breathing with me and my husband, creating a calm entrance for my daughter to enter this world.

Note to self: breathe.