I want to begin by thanking you for taking time out of your day to pause and glimpse the world through my eyes.
I am not sure where you are reading this from but whether near or far, we share something in common no matter where we find our bodies resting in this moment; our breath and the miracles of our individual and collective breathing.
Think of all who have gone before you and how the gift of their breath came and passed away. Perhaps you are thinking of a dear loved one who has passed or your own ancestors from whose breath lineage you appeared. All of them had this gift. You have had it your whole life. You have it now.
For better or for worse, breath is your tether to the wretched, wondrous cage of skin and muscled bones you occupy in this world. Breath is your moth wing to new imaginings and possibility.
And breath is what the pandemic and climate crises threaten in us all.
Please pause if you need to and honour what this means to you and when you are ready, a glimpse into my morning today:
This morning I took my breath on a brisk-aired walk with my family. We walked along the newly frozen Confederation Trail in Mt Herbert amid the glorious splendour of snow softly falling. But it being life, it was not without its realness. There was an acrid odor of wood smoke in the air and being allergic, I wondered as I walked just how much I could tolerate before it might become a problem for my breathing. Thankfully it dissipated as I stayed present to my breath while we made our way towards the Walden-like beaver pond we love to visit. The rest of my crew wandered off trail, down to the pond where they saw a Kingfisher--I remained on the trail, crouched down and hoping no one would come along and see my strangeness as I searched for two squirrels I could hear chattering disagreeably in the trees. My attention was taken by a pair of Bluejays flitting down to the riverbank below the trail and pond. Their often taken for granted, bright blue plumage was simply stunning against the backdrop of the golden yellow sunburst lichen on the Poplars they flitted between, lighting up the otherwise spare woodland scene. And suddenly, the water running down the river in the little glade below felt like it was rushing in me blurring my edges and bringing me to a warm November day a year ago, when two of my kids and I sat riverside in this very place, reveling in the strange combination of warmth and no flies. It had been too long since we visited this place and while today was freezing in comparison that feeling of wonderment was just as present for me.
I wish you similar experiences of breath connection with somewhere you love in the days and weeks to come.
Nature is a place to catch your breath and to feel it fall into that blessed union with all. It's why my family and I walk in nature daily. To nurture that connection between our breathing and to remind us we are part and parcel of the rest of the living world. I am a lonely sort of person and it also helps me feel less alone when I walk in the forest each day.
In this time of dwindling light there are so many losses to grieve but there is also much to be grateful for even in the midst of difficulties. Today I breathed in gratitude for the creatures I encountered trail walking and for the goose honking goodness available to me.
As you breathe in the full catastrophe of this world, I offer you this query:
What nourishing can you offer self and other through your breath these late December days?
This world is admittedly, a world of wild intensity for me. I feel deeply the sorrows and joys around me. I think deeply about the challenges humans face. As a hypersensitive, neurodivergent woman, I process sensory information in a profoundly different way than more typical humans do. And so, this living world very often feels incredibly overwhelming to me due to social challenges as well as sensory processing differences which is why learning to work with my breath for calming and centering has been utterly transformational. The breath work I practice in mindfulness meditation has been a grounding force. It has helped me see that I can sit with difficult truths and still breathe in this world.
Our breath is our light. Yours and mine both.
This breath can bring us ease and presence in a time of darkness. And remind us of our common humanity and that we do not have to hold it all alone. It can help us remember our connection to the natural world with its beautiful, breathing trees and myriad creatures and waters whose breath rhythms and life cycles we are completely attuned to and wholly dependent upon.
Training in the ability to remain present to your breath over time enables you to stay put and understand the wisdom of my mother’s favourite old adage “this too shall pass”.
Through our breath is how we move through time and space. With masking and physical distancing heightening our awareness of each other's breath, it is also acutely and sometimes painfully, how we move in and out of each others lives in these strange and dark days.
And so I welcome you dear reader friend, to remember that while we are apart, we can still connect through our breathing in wonderful, positive ways. Through wishing each other wellness. Through taking the time to bear witness to the very “what is” of our lives in the moment.
In this season of giving and receiving, of celebration of light and love in the many varied and more limited forms our celebrations may take, I can think of no greater gift to honour self and other with than the gift of breath for it is the very gift of life itself.
And so, with the onset of the new COVID-19 variant, Omicron, as we are asked to keep our distance from loved ones, to reduce our contacts, and to keep our holiday gatherings small, it might be beneficial to remember that your breath is your truest companion in life and that you are honouring the very source of life itself when you choose to honour breath.
May the gift of this honouring be the light you share with self and others during this time of Winter solstice/ Christmas.
Thanks for reading!
Be well in breath and wonder!
Happy Solstice and Merry Christmas to you!
Jill