I do it all the time. I do it when I'm scared..when I'm surprised...when I'm in pain...when I'm worried...unsure. Sometimes I don't even know I'm doing it until I hear someone say, "Breathe!". I don't realize how uncomfortable I am until I draw in the first breath and the feeling of relief washes over me. A few days ago I experienced that relief.
My friend has been gone. He still is. I knew I would miss him when he left, but I underestimated how much. He was so many things to me...a coach...a friend...a running buddy...a sounding board...a student...a teacher...a confidante...and more. I laughed with him. I cried in front of him. I learned from him. I succeeded because of him. He made me happy many times and even made me sad a few times. He helped me realize my potential and changed me for the better.
I was sad when he left, but more than anything I was worried. I was worried that he wouldn't find what he was looking for...worried that he would never come back to train me...worried that he would forget me. In a sense, I've been holding my breath since September 14th. When my friend called me a couple of days ago, I felt relief...I took a breath. I don't think he'll ever be back, but I am learning to accept that. He's my friend and if he's happy, then who am I to tell him to do something different. I just have to keep breathing and be thankful for what I have...my memories...the things I've learned...no one can take those things away from me. I should be grateful and aware of every breath I take. Buddha once said, " "Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn alot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us be thankful."
It's time for me to stop holding my breath. It's time to breathe so I can live.