Usually, breathing is referred to as inhale and exhale. But when we relax and pay attention, we’ll find that there is a third part, a space in-between the time of the exhale and the inhale – a pause, a few seconds, a space in time when there is nothing, a moment during which the world inside of us quiets.
That space is my universe. In that space, I know I don’t need to remember to breathe in, my body remembers for me. And I don’t have to control its length, my body knows how long it should be.
In that space, I actually don’t feel that I am breathing, but that I am breathed.
In that space, for a moment, I can stop chasing whatever we chase in life: happiness, money, the train, the kids, the dog, or our own tail. No more chasing – for a moment.
In the space between out-breath and in-breath I reside, and, consciously or not, I am surrendered to something much larger than me.
Instead of chasing the world, I can follow. And by following, I have arrived, manifested in my essence, which is always there, and always has been, to find a language older than words*, to find the letter to myself that was written a long time ago.
And the most amazing thing is that this space, this opportunity, resides in my chest every twelve seconds.
Thank you, to whoever is breathing me.
(“A Language older than Words” – inspired by Derrick Jensen, http://derrickjensen.org)