I've learned that I fail miserably at breathing. Yes, breathing. I didn't realize that I did until I went to my pulmonologist who asked, "Why are you holding your breath?" I told him that I WASN'T holding my breath, I was breathing. He said, "You THINK you're breathing but there's hardly any air coming in or going out. So, you decide - are you breathing?"
I think it began when I was little. I was an allergic kind of kid. I looked at grass and I grew welts. I wheezed and sniffed and sneezed for months throughout the year. I got used to my chest hurting and to compensate for that hurt, I taught myself how to breathe, my way. So, years later, I'm told that my way is like barely living. I'm killing my lungs and my heart and preventing healthy blood flow, all because of my very own, self taught breathing style.
Life has been like that for me too. I sucked at times when things got tough early in my life by just being and not doing. I thought that it was at least adequate enough to get by. I settled for what was because it was what I knew and it was in my comfort zone.
The more I became conscious of how I breathed or actually, "didn't breathe", I forced myself to fully take in air and slowly let it out. I found out something in the process....by being conscious of breathing, it gave me a chance to relax and focus.
By being aware of how much I was bypassing the chance to take risks and leave the normal and go for adventure, I found exhilaration and wonder and excitement. Now, I seek out abnormal, looking for excuses to make each day different.
Oh and the breathing? I still sometimes forget and hold my breath but I'm getting better at it, each and every day.
Saturday and Sunday in the Country
1 hour ago