A New Bloom

So much advice is about exhaling.

Not to diminish the value of letting out the breath held, but without taking in, there can be no letting out.

This afternoon, for just a little while, I sat in the sun, inhaling its warmth until I couldn’t breathe.

It was glorious.

I had my eyes closed and listened to the sounds of the world — the wind in my neighbor’s backyard palm trees, the rustle of the big crooked pine in my yard, the vroom-putter of the neighbor’s motorcycle, the skipped cylinders of a car going by behind me.

Eventually, I had to inhale, taking in the scents of the afternoon — winter on the breeze that swept down from the mountains, bringing a tinge of cold with it to remind me that when the sun goes down, the chill will return and I’ll need to put my sweaters back on.

The reminder drove me back indoors, back to my desk, because a meeting was supposed to happen.

It didn’t.

I inhaled and closed the video program, messaged the missing attendee. In times past, I would have offered several times that we could reschedule. Not today. Not anymore.

I need time to inhale.

Catch me on the flip: I have links to schedule meetings with me, that go straight to my calendar, in my email signature. Some of those blocks of time marked ‘unavailable’ are mine … not for work, not for anything.

They are to allow time to let the sun take my breath so I can inhale.