Breathing in, I know that I am breathing in.
Breathing out, I know that I am breathing out.
Breathing in, I see myself as a flower.
Breathing out, I feel flesh.
Breathing in, I see myself as a mountain.
Breathing out, I feel solid.
Breathing in, I see myself as still water.
Breathing out, I reflect things as they are.
Breathing in, I see myself as space.
Breathing out, I feel free.
~Thich Nhat Hahn

It is taking a lot to breathe these days Or at least it is taking intentional effort on my part to do so. With the world whirling so fast and in such a chaotic fashion, I find myself actually holding my breath quite often. Never a good thing. Which may be the reason that this poem by the beloved Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hahn, floated to the surface of my consciousness earlier today. I actually didn’t remember whose words they were but knew that I had to find them to see if they were speaking to me as I thought they might be. A quick scan of my book shelves unearthed this gem. Ahhhh…

These words along with a particular image have been bringing some solace to my days. I shared the image below with some friends on Friday saying how it seems to represent how I feel., how I am trying to be in the face of it all. The image is of a statue found in Savannah, Georgia one of my favorite cities. The statue gained fame for being on the cover of a book later made into a movie: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt. At one point it stood in a cemetery there and featured prominently in the movie. It had to be removed and placed in a museum after the movie as it was feared it would be damaged by over-interested visitors. Its original title is simply Bird Girl and the way she holds out her arms, two vessels balanced by her straight body and ever so slightly tilted head seems to create the posture I find myself wanting to take. 

Breathing in, I hold all the turmoil that swarms around. Breathing out, I gaze out at the beauty of my summer garden. Breathing in, I wonder at what seems to me the drive to divide people into categories that are dehumanizing, are not only unkind but also unjust. Breathing out, I marvel at the kindness that I encounter ever day from friends, family, neighbors, strangers. Breathing in, I grapple with despair and fear for what seems to be happening to our country, our world. Breathing out, I look with awe at the faces of the babies, the toddlers, the children that weave in and out of my life. Breathing in, I read or hear words that are mean and cutting and even cruel. Breathing out, I read poems and stories so filled with beauty and inspiration that my spirit is given to floating above my body.

Bird Girl reminds me that I, that we, live in a both/and world and that to live wisely, sanely, means to hold all the beauty and the terror in our outstretched hands…every day…every moment…with every breath. When I gaze on her slightly bent head I imagine what that bend means. “Really?” she might be saying. Or “Look at this.” Or even “Please.” My need to create a story for her is pretty strong.

Perhaps all that bent head is portraying is the truth that holding that balance is difficult work. Sometimes sorrowful work. Almost always courageous work. And then just when it all seems too much to bear, a tiny bird lands on one bowl and sings there a song so beautiful, so pure that hearts are broken open at the miracle of it. 

Breathing in…breathing out. Both. And. So it goes. So it goes.