Twice in my life I felt miserable, not bad, miserable. The first time I was giving birth to Nikky, and the second time began in the middle of a sleepless night when poisons of my first chemotherapy went running wildly through my body like bugs on hot asphalt. It ended six months later. I credit my survival in both situations to this advice: breathe.
Ha, ha, ha, whooo, ha, ha, ha, whooo. That's how I pushed through childbirth hearing the voice of my La Maze class insturctor, "Concentrate on your breathing. That's it. You'll be fine." Ha, ha, ha, whooo, ha, ha, ha, whooo. And I was fine. Nik is almost thirty, and I survived without any ill affects, except sleepless nights, etc., but those are other stories. This is about breathing.
To help me through the horrendous effects of Adriamycin and Cytoxcin (Sp?) running through my veins, my adjunct therapy after my right breast was polluted with cancer and lopped off my body, I went to a Chinese herbalist. She gave me teas of stinky mushrooms, herbs and special remedies doused with gallons of water, acupuncture and deep breathing practice. She taught me how to pull air slowly into my lungs and relax away the nausea and discomfort. I would lie in hot Epsom salt baths at night, after my mastectomy wounds had healed, and breathe. In two,three, four; hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven; out, with a swoosh two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. In... It didn't take me to heaven, but it quenched patches of hellish fires flickering in my stomach and my muscles and my bones.
Sometimes when I'm driving to work in the morning, I sing to myself these words straight from Sunday night services on warm summer evenings,
Breathe on me, breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what Thou dost love,
And do what Thou wouldst do.
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what Thou dost love,
And do what Thou wouldst do.
So simple, peaceful. Breath. Could it be synonymous with spirit? Who knows, but it feels so good. In, two three four; hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven; out with a swoosh, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. In...
Peace. Love, Linda
2 comments:
Never thought of this before, but-maybe that breath in opens up all those worries that need to be exhaled. You're right, we do feel God's Spirit more when we breath in His goodness and ever present grace. Take care "little sister" and know that prays are going out for you and Darren and his parents. another song "Because He lives" I can face tomorrow... love you
Thanks, Mary. Love you!
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