So(ul)journ!

I’ve been feeling a bit harried lately. Like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, I’m not actually rushing around, but life’s pace has definitely picked up. It’s showing itself in strange ways: restless sleep, a shorter temper, and, oddly enough, procrastination. If someone asked what’s new, I might snap back, “This time it actually bothers me!”

During my renewal leave, when life felt overwhelming, I could give myself the gift of a “self-imposed timeout.” A few hours—or even a day—would allow me to step back, breathe, and recalibrate. Then I’d return to the task at hand with a clearer mind. But that luxury feels harder to grasp now, when others’ needs and wants seem to depend on me pushing through, no matter how clouded my headspace is.

This morning, as I listened to a meditation, the presenter offered a simple invitation:

“Take a deep breath. Fill your lungs with air. And let it out completely.”

It caught me off guard—he doesn’t usually start meditations like that. But then, as if to underscore the importance, he repeated it. This time, a candle flickered into view on the screen.

“Take another deep breath. Fill your lungs fully, and let it go completely.”

So I did. And then he had us do it again.

“Take a deep breath. Feel the air fill every corner of your lungs. Now let it all go—every last little bit.”

By the third breath, I started feeling lightheaded. Isn’t that something? This most basic function of life—breathing—had become so automatic, so overlooked, that being intentional about it felt novel.

As I sit here writing, I realize my default breathing is shallow, barely filling a third of my lungs. So, I pause again, consciously drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Two more breaths, and I feel lighter, clearer. Who knew something so simple could make such a difference?

Of course, breathing won’t fix everything. The to-do list is still there, and the text that just popped up on my screen demands a reply. This morning’s meetings conflict, and I haven’t even tackled my plans for the week ahead. Procrastination lingers, partly because I’m at the mercy of the weather for one big looming task.

But as much as I’d love to control the weather—or time, for that matter—I can’t. What I can do is pause.

Set the device down.

And breathe …