On days like these, we forget to breathe. The sea of circumstance is quick to swallow us in its demanding waves. The “more” cries out for completion. Deadlines, dinner, and dishes are forever looming. These things are never truly finished, only pushed back until the next crashing wave.
Tomorrow is a myth. When the conditions are right, we believe that the next set of 24 hours will help us stay afloat, bringing peace and tranquility after the busy of today. But of course, tomorrow never truly comes, least of all how we imagine it.
Another list
Another urgent
Another cycle of crazy
It is when we are in the inescapable grasps of the daily grind, that breath is a luxury. More than that, it is a act of rebellion. Our automatic function becomes something we control. Bucking against the fast pace and dirty clothes of our current state, we find a space all our own in one measured breath. Our schedules might not be ours, but our lungs are and in them we spark revolution. This is our private revolt against the uncontrollable. This is how we survive another battle of our modern day. If we meet joy in the struggle, it certainly must enter our lungs first. With measured air, we keep the waves at bay. We practice autonomy over our schedule when we settle down deep into our own peace, calling to us from the inside. It whispers “enough”. Enough with the hurry. Enough with busy. Enough with those things that crumble under the weight of eternity.
Enough. Just breathe.
Matt simon blog 