No one taught me how to breathe.  Inhaling and exhaling came natural to me.  I imagine it’s the same for most people; breathing is automatic.  The sign that life is there.

This feels like breathing.

It’s 8.00 AM.  I’m home from work.  My eyes are heavy; I am ready to go to sleep.  But I need to feel alive.  So I let my fingers sprint across the keyboard with no aim or direction.  Just desire.

There is a time and a place for everything.  There is a time to chase perfection.  And there is a time when we allow ourselves to be.  To be in all of our imperfections, shortcomings, and inadequacies.  To just be.

This is my exercise in being.

It feels like breathing.