Deep Breaths

...take a few deep breaths

“Deep breaths. Just take some deep breaths,” he said (AI generated image)

It seems almost trite to begin a post by suggesting that a few deep breaths are a really good idea in these times. I am sure you know that and telling you to take a few is just another thing to add to a list of many coping strategies that can easily fall by the wayside in the midst of chaos.

And it is also funny to offer this topic to you as I hadn’t actually found myself habitually taking deep breaths to calm myself down and center myself back in my heart. So who am I to write about it?

But the truth is that I am someone learning to receive what this field around me has to teach me. Just like you. And recently, I was shown something beautiful when it comes to pausing and breathing. So I thought it might be nice to share the story as it has helped me a lot. Sometimes I imagine when one passes away and looks back at one’s time here on the planet, there are moments that stand out. Moments that were incredibly meaningful, even if at the time, they seemed quite mundane. Like a whisper that is easy to miss in the flurry of existence. Or a soft kiss that you might not feel because it came from an angel on your cheek and you were busy thinking of other things.

But the kiss keeps coming back in images and sensations, because it means something.

This little story is about one of those kisses. I will get there. Perhaps like a photo, or a sensation, you will feel it too and you won’t have to add another technique to your list of coping strategies. Perhaps your mind, like mine, will simply remember the story and you will find yourself pausing, and life will slow down and you will feel loved in that moment despite the chaos. Perhaps.

Recently, when the world seemed to be shattering even more than expected and the geoengineering was causing my eyes to puff up and my face to hurt, I remembered to take a few deep breaths which sometimes simply looked more like consciously pausing my swirling mind for a moment and telling it to slow down. It felt nice.

I know now to call the misty, widening lines in the sky geoengineering. If I call it geoengineering, articles come up when I search for more information. If I type chem trails into my search engine, all I get is information about crazy conspiracy theories.

But a search regarding geoengineering tells me that yes, it is not absurd that I feel tired in Tucson when the sky is obscured or that my face feels puffy when heavy metals like aluminum are misting invisibly down on me and entering my lungs. I felt validated when I was light headed in the parking lot of Trader Joes and had to grab a metal railing for a moment next to the red shopping carts outside. If I research geoengineering I can see why. If I research chem trails, I read that I am just crazy and my physical symptoms are all in my mind.

Deep breaths.

I found it sweet that people took time to make this next to a little path near the bike trail

They really are helpful and I have been taking them a lot since arriving in Tucson, but not in the regular way. Instead, I found myself revisiting a memory that was so striking, I kept wandering back to it to relive it again. Kind of like that angel kiss on the cheek.

When you imagine and feel things in your body, your body responds like the things are actually happening to you. If I spend time imagining the apocalypse, my body starts to respond as if it is happening. So I try not to do that.

Same with those geoengineered clouds. It is good to notice so I can discern my options, but not to get overwrought over something beyond my control. That doesn’t help anyone.

Instead, I have been remembering something I observed recently that I have been running with ever since. You know, like when you hear someone say something really helpful to someone else and you know those words are also meant for you, even though they didn’t send them your way?

I was visiting a pregnant yoga teacher friend here in Tucson. It was because of her enthusiasm and recommendation that I ended up in Cambodia a few months ago at a week long yoga and meditation retreat at Hariharalayla in the city of Siem Reip. And also, if you look at life and connections like an algebra equation, I can say that it is because of her that I now have a morning practice of spinal movements and fifteen minutes of silent meditation. You remember algebra and those logical rules such as: if A, then B, then C? She was the A. The retreat center was the B and my new practice is C. Each step was necessary for the next to take place.

I find hope in that somehow.

I think it is why I always liked math. Math was all about logical steps and balance and in a world of seeming chaos, logical steps are soothing.

If someone had handed me the card I have with a list of spinal movements, a few Sanskrit chants and a suggestion to meditate for 15 minutes, I wouldn’t have done anything with it. But because of A, and then B, I have reached C without even knowing it was an outcome that would serve me.

I imagine life is frequently like that which is why I remind myself that everything is happening for me and not to me fairly often. It is one of my coping strategies that helps reset my view of things. I don’t always know where things will lead when I let myself lean into unknown experiences or the gifts that can arise from the most unexpected things. For instance, today I went to a new dentist in El Salvador who was highly recommended. On the way there, my driver pointed out that the office was in a gas station. “No….Juan,” I said with certainty. Then I named the famous doctor I was told liked this dentist. “I can’t imagine he would go to a dentist located in a gas station,” I laughed. A few minutes later, after confirming for me on Google Maps that the office was actually located where a gas station was, Juan glided past a few pumps and pulled into a tiny parking space next to a small door and then led me inside. Juan says he finds our outings entertaining. I can see why. He left to get a coffee while I headed for the dental chair. There was only one.

It ended up being one of the best dental appointments of my life. I left with a missing filling replaced which felt much better than the original, got fitted for a new night guard I was told was better than the one I had which should have been replaced a few years ago, and a bill for all of it that totaled $205. She didn’t try to take a bunch of x-rays, which I don’t like and used a little camera wand to see things instead. She also didn’t bat an eye when I said I didn’t like fluoride. Then when I asked about teeth whitening, I learned she didn’t recommend it as it made teeth more sensitive. (So much for the other friend who warned me she would try to upsell me on things.) Both her husband and son were there and it felt like we all might have been at a Thanksgiving dinner together if I wasn’t lying in a dental chair with my mouth open. Her husband stood next to me and helped translate until their son arrived, who was in dental school and spoke perfect English. As I left, they all waved goodbye to me.

I couldn’t believe how great a gas station dentist turned out to be. The famous brain surgeon who frequented the place got my silent thank you. One of his friends who refuses to see dentists himself turned me onto the place.

It was all happening for me and not to me. That was certainly clear.

But back to the breathing.

When I arrived in Tucson recently to stay with my uncle before continuing on to El Salvador, I had signed up for one of my yoga friend’s classes and headed to Yoga Oasis to greet her as I wanted to thank her in person for her Cambodia recommendation. Plus I loved her teaching style and company.

But when I arrived a bit late and set up my mat I was confused as she was not the instructor in front of me. When the class ended, I asked her if perhaps my friend was teaching the class next door and I had come into the wrong room?

“Oh no! I am subbing for her. She is due to have a baby any day!” she responded.

I was a surprised as my friend had a fairly young baby when I had last seen her.

So I sent a text to my pregnant friend and she responded, “Yes, I’m due any day! Want to come over? I’d love to hear about your travels!!! Tomorrow afternoon would be great if baby is still inside.”

My uncle agreed to loan me his car, which he generously shares with me every time I visit, and I set off in the trusty Subaru. I made a stop at a rustic natural food store on the way for gifts and found a few candles and some lavender bath salts which I figured might be nice for her. The owner of the store had no gift bags but after I explained why I needed one, she headed into the back and found a small, used paper bag and a piece of orange tissue paper.

I thanked the woman who had put some effort into rummaging in the back in order to help me and told myself my friend would probably appreciate reusing things… Then I headed on my way with ther little little brown bag with crumpled tissue paper sticking out the top perched happily on the passenger seat next to me.

A few minutes later I found her house at the end of a cul-de-sac next to another house with a six foot metal chicken standing in the front yard. (Tucson is known for its artistic side). I knocked on the door and was soon greeted with a big smile from Jess and an interested and friendly toddler looking up at me. We headed into the living room and plopped down in a couple chairs while she told me about the unexpected struggles of her pregnancy and how she had become a case of interest to many doctors. She had weekly zoom calls with groups of them along with her four midwives (yes four…so that gives you a sense of how serious things must have been) and said she also had to go to the hospital every week for tests. On top of that, there had been some emergencies in their family that had required her to visit the emergency room two weekends in a row. She said January had been rough.

So I was surprised when she said, “You know Terra, I think that even though a lot of really difficult things have been happening, I really think it has been a gift. I used to have such an aversion to hospitals and I have learned that there are people there who really care. So I think this has all happened for a reason. They want to induce me and I still hope I can have the baby at home.”

I sat in awe as I observed her mastery of: This is happening for me not to me, while she continued, “and I was wondering if you would like me to do a Tarot reading for you while you are here? I would love to if it sounds good to you.”

Now, I felt a tinge of hesitation to arrive and receive a free reading from this woman with so much on her plate and I could see she really meant it when she said she would enjoy it. Of course, on my end, I was thrilled to see what she would do with a deck of Tarot cards and I happily agreed.

She mentioned we would have to find a moment when her toddler was occupied, but soon after, her husband Tim, who perhaps saw this coming, popped out of the kitchen where he had been preparing dinner and asked if the little girl would like to accompany him to Trader Joes? She responded affirmatively with a smile and reached out her arms to be picked up. I noticed there was no forcing or cajoling, and somehow the whole family seemed to flow in a way that allowed everything to work.

“Let’s go now while we have a chance,” she said as she led me back to a room with a bookshelf full of enticing titles and sat down on the floor where she presented me with a couple of Tarot decks. “Which one would you like me to use?” she asked.

I pointed at one, which she informed me was her favorite, and we were off and running.

It was quick, as Trader Joes was not far away and I tried to take in her words about the Priestess card I had drawn, foretelling a positive future, and the Tower card which had to do with loss and transformation.

There was more she mentioned and I quickly jotted down some notes as her daughter headed into the room to snuggle with her mom. Trader Joes was close and it hadn’t taken long for Tim to get what he needed, despite having a toddler in tow. Jess said he was making lasagne for their elderly neighbor who recently lost her husband.

“We seem to feed a lot of people here,” she laughed.

“I think Terra, I am going to have to learn to receive food soon,” she continued, as we wandered down the hall and stood outside the kitchen from which the nourishing smell of roasted tomatoes, melted cheese, and warm noodles wafted towards us.

At that moment, their daughter bumped her head on the wall and started to cry.

Tim popped out of the kitchen away from the lasagne for a moment and looked at her kindly.

“Deep breaths. Just take some deep breaths,” he said.

Then Jess gave her a hug and equilibrium was quickly restored as life moved forward. But something in me wanted to stay in that moment. In fact, something in me was rather astonished that such a simple and profound thing as taking a few breaths when out of sorts could be taught so easily and naturally to someone under the age of two. And it had worked so well, most likely because the suggestion itself was delivered in such a calm, caring, and centered way.

Take some deep breaths.

I wished I had learned that at the age of two. In fact, I wished I had taught my children to do the same thing.

I imagined it would change a lot.

And over the next two weeks, as our country announced we had gone to war, and my eyes puffed up on days when the sky was coated in “clouds”, I remembered that moment and relived it again. It felt really nice.

Sometimes I would actually take a few slow breaths. I figured it is never too late to create a new habit.

Often, just the little memory-film would run through my mind and was enough to soothe something in me. I didn’t even have to consciously slow my breathing. It just happened.

I realized my new friends and their little family gave me hope and hope is something I want to cultivate like a garden. I know it is good for my soul.

Jess told me her daughter had started going to a little Montessori preschool. She loved it there. Jess and Tim like to kiss her goodbye through the gate whenever the leave. Now Jess tells me, all the little children want to be kissed goodby though the gate. In fact, she told me laughing, they demand it of their parents.

I listened as she also told me how they enjoy feeding people and how friends frequently stop over unannounced and then stay for some nourishment.

She said it had only been three years since they first met when she told Tim she wanted to go to Burning Man sometime and he responded that he, as one of the organizers, thought he could make her wish come true.

Now they occupy a house with some chickens in the yard and have a family growing a little faster than they had planned. But Life is like that. Life often doesn’t listen to one’s plans.

A few days later I got another text: “…I’m having a baby today!” and then the next day: “Baby girl came so fast, 25 minute labor…she’s peeeerfect…”

She sent me pictures of the tub she had used to birth her baby at home and the new little one on a blanket with a few Tarot cards her mother drew for her along with a delicate umbilical cord still attached to a placenta with candles around it.

I wondered what meal I could bring over and felt a bit frustrated that I didn’t have any great ideas of what to prepare in my uncle’s kitchen.

The angel must have given me another kiss on the cheek as a day or two later, I returned from an outing to see a group of women in my uncle’s kitchen preparing food to take to women at a homeless shelter.

“We have an extra lasagne,” one of them said. “Would you like it?”

“Well, actually, I have a friend who just had a baby and I wanted to bring something to her.”

“That’s great! You can take this if you want.”

The lasagne, still warm from the oven, was from Costco and smelled lovely, probably because it was made with sausage and even though I am a vegetarian, bacon and sausage still remind me of my childhood and smell good to me.

I texted Jess and asked if a small, warm lasagne would be welcome.

She responded with an enthusiastic, “Yes!”

So my uncle and I headed over to drop it off along with a bar of cacao I grabbed impulsively out of my suitcase.

A smiling Tim came out of the kitchen, where he seems to spend a lot of time, and took the lasagne topped with a chocolate bar out of my hands while he exclaimed, “Cacao! That’s so generous!” The overachieving part of me that felt the little lasagne wasn’t enough took a few deep breaths. Everything was just fine. The angels had nudged me to grab that chocolate bar. They knew these were cacao people. Just like me.

And somehow, I felt I was part of a tribe and despite the craziness of the world I had been seeing, good things were happening in it.

Deep breaths.

The little girl and I were both learning and just thinking of that moment continues to make me happy.

my favorite stopping spot on the Tucson bike path with my beloved bike on one of our last rides together (it is headed to my cousin’s daughter as I thought it would be happier with her than in a shed while I travel)—its’ a great place to take a few deep breaths

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