Monday, November 24, 2008


We are often reminded to breathe. We breathe through labor. We breathe during exercise. When we are upset, we try to remember to 'take a deep breath'. My youngest son would hold his breath and pass out during tantrums when he was 1 or 2. If I saw it coming on, I would get right in his face and tell him to breathe... just breathe...

Breathing is a natural thing in our lives. We all do it. Every moment. But we also have classes to remind us. LaMaze, Yoga, meditation. Why is it that we need reminders to do such a basic thing? I even painted a picture named 'Breathe'.

Oh well, I suppose the why's don't matter. We just all need to remember to breathe. In a heated argument, one deep breath could save you from doing harm with your words. When someone is angering you, or trying to evoke a negative reaction, one deep breath on your part could make them give up and go away.

Breathing could mean the difference between natural childbirth and drug assisted child birth. I have seen 2 newborns in the last month. One was delivered after many drugs were administered. The other was natural. The first baby was lethargic for at least 24 hours, the 2nd was alert, wide eyed, and very strong. The difference was breathing during labor.

Anyway... I'm a little scattered this morning. This is not what this post was going to be about. And really, it should be more focused on argument breathing. Breathing instead of lashing out. Wouldn't the world be a better place if we all took collective breaths?

Here's a funny story. When I was young, one of my cousins had convinced me to hold my breath each time we drove past a cemetary... something about breathing in death if I didn't. So I did. For years. Cemetaries were a frightening place as far as I was concerned. Until we buried my mother when I was 14. Then it was simply where she was layed to rest. One night, when I was 16, I was so upset. Boy troubles, I'm sure. And I went to my mom's grave and cried and cried, pouring my heart out to her. I fell asleep and woke up to fire ants biting my face. Ever since that night I have loved cemetaries. They are calm and inviting.

I found out that my dad shares my enjoyment for cemetaries... for the peace that one feels there. I went out both weekend mornings and took pictures, and they all happened to be at cemetaries.

My dad will send me some pictures soon. I hope you are looking forward to them as much as I am.


Melissa said...

Yeah, we used to do the whole holding your breath thing too. But it never scared me. Don't know why. It was just something to do during long rides.

An old friend of mine and I used to get ice cream and go sit in the cemetary. I always found it beautiful and peaceful.

~Deep, slow breaths~

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