Where I Am

To sit. To simply sit and know you’re breathing … in, and out …… innnn through your nose ……… and oooout through your mouth. For life to slow down to breaths that you’re conscious of - that’s where I am.

Forty-five years old, just breathing, aware of every inhale, and every exhale … living in the moment, my lungs EXPANDING … and contracting …… listening to my Maker.

I’m in a paragraph of life, on a single page, a paragraph of restraint, of pause, of awareness, of peace, of contentment, of joy, of gratitude, of not understanding a single second of it. It’s odd when you’ve been runnin’ and gunnin’ for decades on end.

To walk through a forest and see every tree, every branch. To hear every bird, every squirrel rummaging through crisp leaves, to see the elegance in a deer standing twenty feet in front of you with its ears erect, its eyes wondering how trustworthy you are – just you and doe and nothing else.

She calmly prances away, believing you’re not a threat, nor more than she is to you - just two beings sharing the same autumn wind … wind that passes through giant pines, atop murky swamps … as seamless as a jet stream over a turtle’s shell.

The energy from the forest seeps into my soul; its need for sunshine, water, nutrients, and oxygen – same as me. It makes me wonder what the woods are receiving from my presence - is it reciprocal?

I must be surrounded by nature –

by its symmetry

by its sounds

by its beauty

by its smells

by its peace

by its wonder

by its loneliness

by its compassion

by its understanding

…… …… …… …… …… ……

by its ability to heal

I have to swallow it deep into my guts

my belly expands

my lungs inflate

I release CO2

My chest concaves, my guts are empty

I see a kaleidoscope of colors in my eyelids as I stare at the sun…eyes closed, I feel its warmth on my pale skin

My soul rests, my Maker speaks, and I listen