Forgetting to Breathe?

We all find ourselves in situations that feel uneasy, right?

Sometimes it’s because our unconscious mind takes the lead, without us taking any part. Other times we consciously create them, but ignore the alarm that turns on when we plan. I often do that. I have this fear of being bored or something (that definitely needs further investigation), plus I take no conscious notice of time, so I rather keep myself on a tight schedule than no schedule at all. I did this today, too.

A friend of mine invited us to go for a dip in our lovely river Glinščica, just below the old railway tracks Trieste (Italy) – Rijeka (Croatia). A dip in the river in the middle of summer sounded wonderful, and so did hanging out with new friends who were on the same wave-length, so naturally I said yes. The walk down the canyon was supposed to take half an hour, but actually took us at least an hour with Svarun’s pace. We had a wonderful time, but when we got back, we felt exhausted. Nothing wrong with that, though. Except I had to go to Ljubljana to pick a friend of mine and Svarun’s grandmother who were both visiting us, spend the night here, and go researching the Dragonja river valley here in Istria tomorrow. Right now I feel drenched. But as I said: I love being busy and there is nothing wrong with that. Except – am I capable of not being busy?

When we got to our place, Svarun was hitting the roof. He often does that when grandparents are involved, because they have no authority over him. It was in the midst of his jumping around on my birthing ball that I had this moment of peace; I realized I took no notice of me today. What that means is I forgot to breathe. Breathing is what connects us with ourselves, as well as to our time and space. Breathing is what keeps us grounded. When we are not aware of our breath, we aren’t aware of ourselves. When we aren’t aware of ourselves, life lives us. When we are aware of our breath and thus ourselves, we live our lives.

So what I did was let Svarun go for an ice-cream with his grandmother, which I decided would do less damage than a freaked-out mother. I took a quartz crystal, which is a great cleansing stone, and my dearest obsidian that a friend of mine found in the wilderness of Tenerife; the latter grounds and reminds me like no other. I had no measure of peace this morning (my yoga and meditation practices), so I took one now. I sat in stillness and listened to the life around me until I could hear the wild birds chirping in my mind. When that happens, I know I’m good. I’m back. And I was: breathing and being. And it was enough.

Speaking of which, let me tell you about this amazing experience that I had yesterday night. I tried hope for the first time. Hope is a ground mixture of tobacco and herbs that the Amazon Indians forage, and is used to clean your nose, sinuses, and third eye. I was up for it instantly, because I’m very much tripping on the third-eye-anything at the moment. When I inhaled the dust into my sinuses, one nostril at a time, tears came flushing down my cheeks and so did booger. But after the first reaction, my breathing pathways cleared and I started feeling a lot of heat congesting in the middle of my brain, in the pineal gland. I started feeling utterly present. The presence was penetrating my being, as though I was having a breathing orgasm. I was breathing and living, that’s it. And it was enough. When we gathered around the fire, my friend was asking me whether I’d sing something, because he knows I love singing. I looked at him peacefully and said: “Maybe later. Now I’m just enjoying my breathing like I never have before.” A breathing orgasm. Go get yourself some.


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