I’ve been thinking about breath lately, about how my breath is truly the core of my existence. Not just on a physiological level, with oxygenation of blood cells and carbon dioxide exchange, but on a much more spiritual plane.

When you get right down to it, everything comes back to breath. In and out, in and out. To keep myself alive, I breathe. To focus my awareness, I breathe. To calm myself down when my stress goes through the roof, I breathe and breathe and breathe again. It does not get much more basic, or more profound than that.

I wrote a poem last week called ‘breath.life.hope’ that included the following stanzas

“And so I take a breath
and I breathe again
and again and again
filling my lungs and heart and soul
with hope
because my life depends on it

because the center
of life,
mine and yours,
is always breath”

And then yesterday, when visiting my eternal muse Jen Lemen, I came across this passage:
“…That no matter what’s happening there is still the magic of my own breath, rising and falling–this one moment where if I breathe into it, I can discover what’s really going down. And truth is always less horrific and more connected than I could have imagined.”

Last week I also got a very last minute opportunity to see an amazing concert. Ingrid Michaelson, Brandi Carlile, Indigo Girls and KT Tunstall. What a line-up of fabulous women. Ingrid was the opening act, and one of the first songs she sang was “Keep Breathing”

“But all that I know is I’m breathing.
All I can do is keep breathing.
All we can do is keep breathing now.”

I’m including a random youtube video, and trust me – it cannot even come close to the experience of hearing her sing this live (talk about tingles all the way to my toes). I was having a rough week, and I must have played this song on repeat about eight hundred bazillion times because it reminded me to do exactly what I needed to do, and nothing more.

Keep breathing.

And so I did, and I got through it. There are days when we have the ability to harness the power of the universe in our bodies and minds and hands. On those days we are made of energy and mental clarity and there is nothing we cannot accomplish. Then there are those days when our breath is all that we have, and indeed, all that we need.

On those days, we need to go back to that breath, and we need to flow with it as best as we possibly can. We need to forget about trying to do more, or be more. We need to relinquish our need to be better or stronger or faster or even saner and we just need to breathe.

When I am aware of my breath, as I am when I listen to this song, I realize that my breath is a channel. It is the conduit for energy, for strength, for serenity, for clarity, for acceptance. It is the center of my life, both given and received. I have a choice in every moment of how deep I want to breathe.

There is a quote I have shared here before, from one of my favorite poets. Mary Oliver’s words move me to the most exquisite and divine places, she is pure magic. This quote, for me a call to action and a reminder to live life fully, is Mary at her most simple and her most brilliant all at once.

“Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?” ~ Mary Oliver

It’s an easy choice to breathe deep, to find the stillness in the midst of chaos. To take the air, and the energy and the strength and the clarity and the acceptance all the way into the core of my being and to release all the rest back out to the universe. To take in what I need, and to let all that I do not need be carried away and absorbed into the spaces around me instead of letting it dwell inside me.

We are usually so unaware of our breath; it is unconscious, not something requiring attention. As much as the choice to breath deeply is an easy one to make, it is also so incredibly easy to forget to make it.

Breath awareness. It is central to the practice of meditation, but also, I believe, central to the act of living a graceful and mindful life. For me, this awareness of my breath is also an awareness of my life. It brings me back to my center, and allows me to become both weightless and grounded in the very same moment.

So do me a favour today, okay? Slow yourself down and sit in stillness for a few minutes. Play the song above, find one that speaks to you or just absorb the music of your life swirling around you. And then just breathe. Don’t worry about what thoughts come into your head, or if the kids are screaming in the background. Just breathe. Your breath is a gift to the universe. Think for a moment, about how much the world receives just because you make the choice to keep breathing. On your breath you will find gratitude, and peace, and deeper understanding of where you fit into this wild and crazy existence.

Just breathe. Keep breathing.

There’s not much more you need to do, really.

the story of stuff

Bella watched it with me, and it has brought on a ton of intelligent questions and provoked an important dialogue. Check it out.

Have Compassion…
Miller Williams

“Have compassion for everyone you meet, even if they don’t want it. What appears bad manners, an ill temper or cynicism is always a sign of things no ears have heard, no eyes have seen. You do not know what wars are going on down there where the spirit meets the bone.”

Oooh, how I love it when words find me, “where the spirit meets the bone”…that gave me chills.

One of my favorite things about the internet is how I’m always just a mouse click away from brilliance, or zen, or wisdom. It’s the possibility that keeps me here long after I know I should shut the computer down. But seriously, read that quote again. Doesn’t that make it all worth it?

This quote speaks to a lesson the universe has been hitting me over the head with repeatedly lately. I just love how, once the cosmos has decided you need to learn something, you keep banging into it over and over again. It chases you down until you one day open your eyes and say “damn…this is what you were driving at? okay, okay, I get it already”…and begin the process of integration and understanding.

It is so easy to be compassionate and understanding to people who treat me well, who do things the way I want them to, who follow the rules I have decided people should live by. But the people that don’t…that’s where I’ve been struggling with the notion of compassionate living.

It’s a tough lesson to learn. To recognize judgmental behaviour as it arises, to own it without personal recrimination, and to set it aside and look with depth and kindness both into and beyond the behaviour or event or person who evoked that response. It requires a constant awareness that I can never, ever ultimately know who a person is at their deepest core. I can’t know their battles, what makes them most weary, what sort of pain they are acting out of. I can try, but I can’t ever really, really know – anymore than someone else can know these things about me.

To find true, authentic compassion, without resorting to condescension or excusing poor treatment that really should be addressed, there’s the real challenge. What does compassion look like? It doesn’t look like pity, that’s for sure. It’s not always cloaked in empathy, for it is unrealistic to assume we can always emphasize. It’s not even always free of expectation or conclusion.

Real compassion involves looking within ourselves - admitting our bias, our tendency to judge, the harshness of our expectations – as much as it does looking into another. It requires being open, even when the person we want to feel compassion for is closed. It is working to transmit kindness, even if the person who needs our compassion is being cruel, or distant, or clueless. It is recognizing that deserving compassion and needing compassion are two very different things, and deciding which one is more important. It is not always easy. There are some times, in the midst of complex human interaction, that compassion is the most difficult emotion to access, let alone cultivate and release.

But cultivate it we must. We have to, because compassion is the root of all peace. How can we hope to find peace on a worldwide scale if we cannot find compassion in our hearts for our friends, and our spouses or lovers, for the stranger who cut us off on the freeway, for the child who just spilled chocolate milk across our computer keyboard? True compassion, rooted in a mantra of encompassing lovingkindness, can change our every interaction by gifting it with the potential for true human connection.

It’s not easy. Some days I struggle much more than others, some people in my life continuously remind me that I have a long way to go, some days I don’t feel like extending compassion to anyone at all.

I’m working on it.

Didn’t I tell you there was more???…..

I’ve got an internet posse too.  Some of these chicks I’ve met in person, many I haven’t.  With a few of them I had that immediate soul connection that I described above.  Some of them know me pretty well, some only know me as a name in the comments section of their blog– but they are all part of that web that surrounds me with friendship, grace and inspiration. 

There’s my TFY Gals, and a few others collected during my iParenting Days.* I’ve traveled to Seattle, Chicago, Ottawa and Montreal to hang with these chicks, and some of them have come here to chill with me in Arizona.   We’ve celebrated the births of many babies (congrats Tara my girl – yet another TFY-baby yesterday!), witnessed many life transitions, given advice on the most mundane and the most profound of situations.  We watch each other grow into our lives as women and mothers from afar, share pictures of our children as they grow and change, keep updated through our blogs and emails – on the fringes of each others lives, but always there.

And then there are the other internet friends that have come my way through random mouse clicks, message board interactions or emailed links.  There’s the eternally wise Linda, my everyday hero Sage Femme, and the grounded and lovely Kristina, just to name a few of the many bloggers who I consider to be friends despite the fact that we’ve never seen each other in real life. Universe willing, I will one day get to meet some of these ladies in person, till then I’ll just soak up their writing and the gifts of friendship from afar. 

Seriously people, the internet is full of the coolest babes.  Jen Lemen, for instance, wouldn’t know me if she tripped over me on her doorstep (and honestly, I think she’s amazing enough that I’ve considered that sort of stalking) but her profound wisdom and creativity make her one of the bright spots of my day.  She, and many others like her, are part of my magic too, even though they don’t know it.

But wait – that’s not even all…

I have got the kick-ass coolest birth community here in Phoenix.  Midwives, Doulas, Childbirth Educators, Nurses and even one super cool OB-Gyn….professionals who are dedicated to serving women and babies in pregnancy and birth and whose passion is an inspiration to me every single day.  These women are not afraid to get down in the trenches; they are doing the dirty work and fighting the hard fight every time they go to work.   Through the fatigue and poor pay, through political bullshit, through a medical system that is fundamentally flawed – they just keep pushing forward.  What’s more, they love what they do more than any group of people I’ve ever encountered – because it is love that drives this work.  The women in my local birth community are the ones that remind me to keep living my original passion, that this work is worthwhile, necessary and rewarding beyond all expectation.  Can you tell how much I dig these chicks?

And I’m not even done yet.  Can you believe it?

Just recently I hit the jackpot once again.  A friendship that was once peripheral grew into something far more by a rather magical bit of happenstance – right place, right time, right life circumstances, and all that.  This friend, a kick-ass girl named Jen, has become very important to me in a very short time.  We see each other a somewhat ridiculous amount (right down to our weekly grocery shopping date), we laugh till our sides hurt, and we spend far too much time perusing myspace profiles and videos on youtube (yes, we are that geeky, and proud of it).  Her boys are some of the coolest kids I have ever encountered, and our kids mesh together so well that when they are together it’s almost like we don’t have any kids at all!  She has been a huge support during a fairly crazy time of transition in my life, and I hope she can sense just how much I value that.

Jen has introduced me into a community of women that I’ve known for less than two months, but who already feel like life-long friends.  We chill together on Tuesday nights at the coolest coffee shop in Phoenix.  Tuesday night is open mic night, and I get to watch my talented new friends Erin Michelle and Lindsay Owen rock their guitars (and learn a bit on my new guitar myself). 

I hang with the regulars, Jen, Rosie, and Gina and Jacquie (and now the lovely Tara too!) and a bunch of other cool people who come and go week to week.  We chit-chat, drink tea, read books and work on our computers.  It’s one of the most relaxing times of my week, and I find myself looking forward to it days ahead of time.  These women welcomed me in with open arms and within minutes I felt like I’d always been there – and that is a rare, rare thing. 

As if that wasn’t enough, a few of them invited me to attend this amazing women’s circle that has been meeting every Thursday night for 14 years.  14 years, people!  I’ve gone twice, what a profound and intense experience to sit in circle with such powerful women.  In the process I made even more connections with women who have so much to teach and to offer me along my journey.  All I have to do right now is remain open to receiving – seems pretty easy, all things considered.

This post got way longer than I intended (people will call me many things in my life, but succinct will never be one of them), but let me just end by saying that I mean this as a thank you to you the universe for providing me with such abundance. 

I am blessed beyond all measure, and I know it.

* I kept an online diary (this predates the days of blogs…does this make me old?) at the parenting site iParenting.com for several years.  I’m gonna try and share links to these girls, but I know I’m forgetting some.  If I left you out, give me a shout and I’ll add your name, but give me credit for trying!

Amy, Tara, Rebekah, Jenn, Allisun, Sherry, Jessica, Melissa, Jen, Laura, Heather, Anna

I’ve got magic in my life.  Plenty of it.  So much magic that it boggles my mind. 

This magic goes by many names, takes many forms.  It is intelligent, vital, beautiful, vibrant, mystical, articulate, affectionate, empathetic, respectful, divine.   My magic challenges me to be better, do better, live better, think more, live more, be more.  It is ethereal and solid, introspective and gregarious, soft and strong.  It is goofy and strange and silly and geeky and weird.  It is classic and mysterious and brilliant and refined and oh-so-fierce.  

I wonder sometimes, how did I get so lucky?  How on earth did I manifest this community of magical women who surround me at all times - regardless of whether I am physically in their presence or miles and miles away.  Talk about being blessed. 

I can visualize this community as concentric rings of people, all somehow linked by human connection, all spinning and swirling around, changing position as life dictates but all somehow always connected to me, and to each other. 

In this little vision of mine, the closest to me are the ones I call my inner circle.  They stand around me, no matter what, arms linked, bodies close - surrounding me with a field of energy and love that I sense at all times.   I couldn’t ever hope to put into words what those ladies mean to me.  I don’t even know why I am bothering to try – except that I must. 

These are my closest friends, my protectors, my guides, holders of my secrets, my soft place to fall.  Mani, Marybeth, Leigh, Maisha, Kate, Brooke.  The girls on my speed dial (and the reasons I went $100 over on cell phone minutes last month).  The people who require true honesty of me, and who I can be vulnerable with.  These girls are the front lines – the first ones I go to when something big is going down.  The ones I will let see me cry, the ones who’ve always got my back.  

They wrap me tight in their arms and their words when I need it, but they also understand the necessity of sometimes simply holding space so that I can learn to hold myself.   They know how to protect the space around me so that I have room to breath.  They recognize that being alone is just as important to friendship as being together.  These girls ask the tough questions, they don’t let me cop out, the depths of their belief in me helps me understand that I am enough.

These ladies are my inspiration.  They are some the most profound individuals I have ever met.  They are writers and thinkers and activists.  They sprinkle fairy dust over everything they touch.  They are both myth and reality.  They get sad, they get angry; they giggle for hours and when the music comes on – let me tell you, these girls can shake.it.down.  They have the biggest hearts, the most complex minds and the most magnificent spirits.  They are my heart and soul and breath.  I simply cannot imagine life without them.

It’s not about how long I’ve known them, how long they’ve been close to me, or even how often I see them or speak to them  (Kate, for instance, I’ve met in person only three times, and it couldn’t be less important).  My inner circle is about a soul connection – and those happen in a fraction of an instant of time, and the energetic connection makes distance or logistics irrelevant.   And when life gets heavy and I wonder if I can bear much more, it is their faces that swirl into the mists of my consciousness to remind me that I am never truly alone.  

If they were all I had, it would be more than enough.

But they are not all I have; my blessings continue outside of that inner circle to include some of the most amazing women I could have ever imagined knowing: my Tribe.  We came together in the most modern of ways (through an AP yahoo group if you’d believe it) but evolved to become a social support system so amazing that I never worry about being taken care of, because Tribe takes care of it’s own. 

These chicks are smart – so smart they blow my mind.  They are wickedly funny.   They are devoted and accomplished and inspirational.  They accept me as I am, but yet still make me want to require more of myself.   They are artists and writers, hip rockin’ mamas and ancient wise women, dreamers and doers.   They are visionaries, and activists and some of the only people I’ve encountered in my life who truly believe they have the power to create real change – and they do it (check out the Arizona Breastfeeding Legislation for proof).

There’s a book club, craft days, cookie swaps, clothing trades, the annual tamale day at Michelle’s and all the other cliché moms’ group things – but that’s only the very beginning.  We wouldn’t be Tribe without Karen’s fishnets and tiara, Nancy’s mythical leather pants, evil email hijacking, Christina’s need for Ajax and the occasional margarita playgroup. 

There was a full thanksgiving dinner prepared for a family spending holidays in the hospital with a really sick kid, cleaning days for overwhelmed mamas with dirty houses, hundreds of meals cooked and delivered to new mamas, sick mamas and just plain stressed mamas, constant borrowing and trading and lending and sharing (Heather, one day I swear I’ll get that heart monitor back to you).  We are loud, and we are bold, and the conversation flies a million miles a minute.  There are so many inside jokes that I always feel bad for newcomers, who must think that they’ve entered some sort of bizarre secret society.  And we laugh…oh, how we laugh.  Tribe is a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it.

And I know that, if I ever needed for anything that these ladies could provide, I would have it in a heartbeat.  End of story

And you know what – there’s more. 

….continued tomorrow!