September 8, 2010 by  
Filed under Living Space

Day Seventy Five Alone Time by ASurroca on flickrSometimes there’s nothing else to do but breathe.

I’ve been looking at this page for a long time now, willing the words to flow as they usually do but nothing is happening.

My mind is full and ready to pop. I think it’s so full that nothing has room enough to move. My chest is full of emotions and they are squeezing me so tight that I can barely breathe. There is no escape hatch in there.

The rain is pounding at my window and dry leaves are caught in the rapids of the water that is swirling across the pavers. Everything is being swept out of control and against its will into the puddle that stretches across the yard. I feel as though I am being swept with them.

There is a pounding inside me that makes me want to leap into action and shake everything up so that the sediment settles where it should and everyone can see clearly again.

I sit here rocking in my chair, using up the frustrated energy that has no other release. If my lungs were free I’d be singing my dramas like a full bodied soprano wringing the last drop from her aria.

Life is so fast that we all go off track sometimes and have to find our way home again. Who will float and who will not? What can I say that will make a difference?

Slow down. The words are in there. Breathe. Sometimes there’s nothing else to do but breathe.

Photo Source: Day Seventy-Five|Alone Time by Alfonso Surroca


4 Responses to “Breathe”
  1. Bo Mackison says:

    Love the photo, a very good companion to a just breathe essay.

  2. Chania Girl says:

    “Sometimes there’s nothing else to do but breathe.” This is so true … and so comforting. Sometimes life circumstances sweep us up in their current and we find ourselves caught in an eddying whirlpool of things beyond our control. Breathing is sometimes the one and only thing that IS within our control, and it’s amazing how much it can help.

    Lovely reflection, Anne.

  3. Oh Anne, so powerful and personal this sharing – the words *were* there, weren’t they? Here’s to currents and pounding and rocking chairs and to just taking that long, slow breath of air into our lungs. Ahh…

  4. Chris Owen says:

    Again Anne Maybus, the writing is exquisite and captures you so well!!!