Like smelling flowers and blowing out candles

Breathe in and breathe out. It’s as simple as smelling a flower and blowing out a candle. The basic consistencies of breath. The only thing that makes sense in a world of madness. Its involuntary and beautiful. 

Breathing is something I never really thought about—it was just there. You could see it when it was cold and push through it when it is hot. It was dependable but never anything special. I took it for granted.  

That was until it started to scare me. Sitting there wondering what was wrong with me. It heavied; I was no longer in control. It intensified. Faster, faster my breath went, and yet, I could not feel a single drop of oxygen in my lungs. 

A pit in my stomach deepens, and as my friends try their hardest to calm me down, I am in a state of uncontrollable emotion. Tears strangling my face, and I can barely see. Breathing faster, overtaking every other feeling in my body. At that moment in time, there were no flowers or candles in sight. Just me and my jagged breath. 

This feeling I have never felt before. I went from friend, sister, to teacher, to mom, each trying to calm me—each failing. 

there were no flowers or candles in sight. Just me and my jagged breath. ”

It wasn’t until days later that I actually started to regain feeling in my body. The weight began to lift slightly, and I started to let go. Addicted to the feeling of soft tranquil breaths once again. I kept on going—inhale, exhale. Like a broken record, I swore to keep breathing. Grasping at any straws that would let me regain control. 

In and out, in and out. 

I felt better. I had been broken, but now with each breath, I slowly put myself back together like a mosaic of beautiful cracked pieces. 

I will never underestimate the simple act of breathing. Like smelling a flower. Like blowing out a candle.