In February, I found my breath again.
It never left.
It always was and has been the very thing that sustains me.
But, in January, I forgot how to really breathe. I forgot to release with each exhale. My body and mind fell out of sync.
I believe it was because I was trying to protect myself from Winter’s sting.
But, in February, Spring began to feel in reach.
One day, she came by a little early and whispered to me,
“Child, you can breathe.
I am almost here.
The newness is near.
But, as you wait, enjoy the great in between.
Let there be a joyful anticipation for me and don’t let yourself miss out on the beauty of waiting.
As I draw more near, you can give your farewells to Winter. But, as you do so, don’t forget to thank her.
She can be harsh.
She is holy.
She is necessary.
She teaches you how to be in need of me.
Let her continue to lead you through.
I will be near to grab your hand and to pull you through the fields if green soon.”
And so, I listened to Spring.
I took a deep breath and I remembered how to release.
I remembered how to breathe.
I remembered to allow myself to simply be.