I was in a pilates class this morning. And something profound happened. Since this blog is also my diary, I felt that I had to write about it. So its a bonus entry this week. 

The instructor had us start off the class with a series of deep breathing exercises. Full and deep and expanding…. and I started to cry.

Then it hit me. Today is the 3-year anniversary of my surgery and my lungs collapsing and filling up with fluid. 3 years ago today I learned, in the harshest way possible, that breathing is a gift. A joy. Without breath I couldn’t talk. Without breath I could not yell for help and without breath I would not have been able to enjoy the last 3 years of my life.  In a new state. In a new state of mind and with oh, so much joy. 

I am grateful every day I survived and was given a second chance.

So thanks for being part of my journey. It has been a slow heal on many fronts. I have been able to to create. To teach. To thrive. It has been the best 3 years of my life. 

And if life gets stressful I remember to breathe.

Just breathe. 

 

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