Just Breathe

"Oh I don't want to hurt, there's so much in the world to make me believe.
Stay with me, Lord, I see."
Pearl Jam



Just breathe. Feel the air enter and reach out, growing long, thin tentacles to reach thirsty molecules. Just breathe, in and out, and the world rushes like a top around you, leaving you dizzy and faltering with your hands out to find a stable place. Just breathe, a simple, involuntary act, yet when you hold your breath to make the turning stop, you are forced to take in air at the point that divides being and not being, and you are so thankful to fill your lungs up, like finding the surface after being forced under water. Just breathe, slowly, methodically, as the blur of people you know, and you don't know, and the people you think you know but don't, weave into something abstract (and at this point, a man in a dark, ill-fitting suit is looking at you saying, "I can see the points of pain, in the middle of this mess of people, who may or may not have been important, but clearly there is a point of impact here." He thinks he knows, but you breathe, controlled. He doesn't truly know, in his art head, you. As you proceed and look at the sky, you take in the air of what you know and though it should make sense, the stars circle like they are entering a dark galactic drain, and you blink hard, and shake your head, like rattling a great magic eight ball, in hopes that the right answer will float to the top. "Yes". "No". "Maybe". "Try again later." Just breathe, breathe, the audible sounds of air entering and exiting and grounding you, because in the end the pure element of oxygen, there standing proudly on the periodic table, a big emphatic O screaming, "Look at me, I am a building block of the universe, I am a great Fundamental, I am a reason for Being", is what matters. The breath in your lungs and the beating of your heart. It all comes down to this.