Me: Hey, lungs. Hey.
I love breathing with you. I love breathing with you so damn much. Thank you.
Lungs: Thank you, Honey. We’re in this together. Two way street. Only better.
Me: Hey, lungs. I’m sorry about all the years I was a smoker. I am so sorry. I don’t even know why I did that to you. To us.
My lungs: Aw. No worries, babe. Seriously. We’re good. We’re new again, just like you. Just like each breath. Everything is new again.
Me: Are you sure? Because that sounds kind of crazy.
My sweet beautiful lungs: Listen, kiddo. You were doing the best you could at the time with the tools you had. You had some rough stuff to deal with, and cigarettes were comfort. They were more than comfort, they were a precious pause when you didn’t know how to pause. They were your red lights and your lover and your friend, and all of that is okay. You got what you needed, and you found your way through it, and we are here now, present, new in this moment, alive, loving you.
Me: That is so sweet. Thank you for this sweetness.
My amazing lungs: Thank you for being here, receptive to letting in sweetness.
Me: It’s a pretty big deal, huh. I didn’t think this was something I could do. All these years I thought I was allergic to sweetness. Guess I was wrong.
My strong lungs: We have all the best breaths to take together. Luscious breaths. Long, slow, deep yoga breaths. Bounding gazelle breath. Softening into sleep breaths. Shared almost-kisses of almost-almost with your lover breaths. Sharp intake of intensity breath when your lover kisses the inside of your wrist. All those breaths and many more. As many as we get will be the right number.
Me: How are we so lucky? To have each other, I mean? You and me, me and you. And to think we have spent nearly four decades together and it didn’t occur to me until today to tell you how I feel, or even to notice.
My miracle lungs: This is the exact right moment. Like you say, All Timing Is Right Timing. We needed to process whatever we needed to process in order to arrive at this moment.
Me: I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you….
Receiving and giving, giving and receiving.
Inhaling appreciation, exhaling appreciation.
Inhaling love, exhaling love.
Receiving [qualities], glowing and giving qualities.
Can we just stop and be in awe for a moment about this?
Hello, new breath. Hello. I’m here for you.
How we play here. You are invited.
Safe space online is rare and precious. To make that work, we lovingly commit to two intentional practices: not giving each other advice and not care-taking.
We try to remember that we all have our stuff (pain, fear, doubt, history), and we’re all working on our stuff, each in our own way and our own timing. It’s a process.
Within that, we can play any way we like. You are welcome to share things sparked for you, something you appreciated, ways you want to play, your own thank-yous, your own internal conversations. Or flowers! I love flowers.
Love, as always, to everyone who is a part of this place, including the Beloved Lurkers, quiet passers-by and everyone who reads. Thank you.
I read this post fairly early in my day, while my body was still waking up. I was stretching, and breathing, and reading, and absorbing the sweetness. My body thanks you, and I thank you. <3
I love this:
"You were doing the best you could at the time with the tools you had. You had some rough stuff to deal with, and cigarettes were comfort. They were more than comfort, they were a precious pause when you didn’t know how to pause. They were your red lights and your lover and your friend, and all of that is okay. You got what you needed, and you found your way through it, and we are here now, present, new in this moment, alive, loving you."
So many sparks!
All timing truly is right timing! This came just as I have begun thinking about how to appreciate and care for my body more and better.
Maybe I can talk to it, to all of the parts of it? Maybe they will tell me what they need?
I just quit smoking two weeks ago and was feeling sad yesterday for how badly I had treated such a vital part of my body.