I am the breath on your lips
Paying attention to our breath can connect us to the rich fullness of life. By Lauren Bloxham
Reading time: 4 minutes
Each breath is a love note, a blessing, a precious and exquisite merging of life into the very fabric of our bones.
Breath is the connection we have to the wider whole, beyond our human form and the boundaries of our skin. Each breath is a drink from the ancient and infinite expanse of life; the same life that gave rise to planets and stars, the same life that gave rise to our ancestors, the very same cup that we each drink from, the shared source and space that gives rise to us all. Each of us, without exception.
Each breath arrives at our lips like an eager lover, of all the particles of air in the whole of the universe, this breath arrives just for us. Each breath being a celebration of connection, an exquisite reminder that we are loved and worthy of life. There is no shortage of breath, no breath reluctant to be breathed. Each breath arrives like the birth of a new baby, full of possibility, filled with hope. Filling our lungs with the affirmation “I am alive”.
Living is built on each and every single breath that we draw. Our first and most vital form of nourishment, it can be savoured like fine wine, like warm sunshine, like cool, clear water washing our feet. Breath becomes us, alive and precious. Breath reminds us that everything that ever was and everything that will ever be, is already right here, in every moment we breathe.
There is freedom on the breath…expansive freedom. A merging into the rich fullness of life…an acceptance of love that whispers: “you matter, and I am here for you”. Breath’s only request is that we accept its sweet gentle caress, so subtle it could be taken for granted, yet so powerful it is the animating force within us all. Expanding into the wholeness of each subtle breath, breath whispers lessons of reciprocity.
Breath says… “Honour me by being present” … “Seek me out in spaces where I am pure and I will drench you with love; a breath by the ocean, mineral rich, fuel for tears and the blood in the veins”… “Breathe me in the mountains and I will fill your heart and mind with spaciousness, vast cool peace becomes you” … “Breathe me in the forest and you will never feel alone”.
There is wisdom on the breath: the ancient wisdom of time, wisdom beyond humanity, but wisdom that can be accessed by awakening thankfulness for breath. Time to sit to savour to explore breath. Time to be nourished and thankful for the precious gift of life. As we bring our presence to breath, breath animates with anticipation… molecules of breath chatter to each other as they bundle ever closer… their leap of faith is their re-birth… no longer in the atmosphere, breath takes a courageous journey inward, merging and morphing with skin, lungs, and heart… may we courageously return our exhalations to the infinite wisdom beyond… No longer ours to hold, the exhalation is a release and letting go, an outward journey of deep gratitude for the life it has lived within us.
The exhalation leaves our lips with a fond goodbye, merging with the wider whole… carrying its wisdom, its experience, its capacity for transformation. The exhalation finds and takes on new life beyond us, melding and morphing, being swept away on the wind, the breath of the gods and landing at the lips of you, my distant friend. The exhalation travels on the wings of murmurations of starlings and soars with birds of prey. The exhalation becomes clouds in the atmosphere and is carried on the rain to become rivers and oceans, rising again to be breathed on the shoreline by basking seals and ball chasing dogs. To be breathed by you as you drink the wild air on a blustery spring walk, or to arrive at your lips warmed by summer sun.
Is there a breath that hasn’t yet been breathed, or is every breath as ancient as time? Am I made of Stone Age breath, enriched by the multitude of transformations that each breath has already undertaken? Am I breathing the first breath of life at the birth of the universe? Am I made of the exhalation of the whale that surfaces in the bay, carrying stories from the ocean depths? Am I fresh from the cedar or the oak? Am I morphing with the wisdom of plants and trees who tell tales of the deep black soil of earth and the birds who nest in their branches? Am I breathing you who sits close to me, your inner world so full and furious, your story engorged with sorrow and doubt? Am I breathing you in who is leaving me, or loving me, or healing me or holding me? Am I breathing the first breath of the new-born baby or the last breath of the dying man? I am. I am the breath on your lips.