Why, when most of the day
I’m not even aware
that I’m doing it,
does the suggestion
to focus on my breath
send me into a mild panic
that asphyxiation is surely night?
As if turning my attention
to the East
will make the rising sun
disappear.
As if,
like a skittish furry creature,
the best tactic is to ignore,
in hopes it will slowly sidle up
to nibble corn kernels
from my open palm.
I may look away,
but my hand tingles with anticipation.
So embrace it.
Yes, on day it will stop,
so indulge while you can.
Bask in the sheer delight
of breathing.
[scs_alt]
PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!
