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.