Someone once told me, “When you don’t understand yourself or when your mind is overflowing just pour it onto a piece of paper.” Now that I’m up to it why not take a moment to talk about the art of breathing.
No, not the kind that turns you into a marathon runner or an Olympic swimmer.
I mean the kind of breathing that helps you when life gives you lemons.
When you’re left alone to face yourself, striving to become a better version of who you are.
When you forget how to ask for help either because of some fear or because you’ve spoken up before—only to go unheard as;
In my opinion, we learn this art every day. Or perhaps we learn it once and practice it for as long as necessary until life demands we learn it again. But what happens when someone else is the one teaching you this art and actually squeezing the last breath out of you in the process?
Yeah, It happens when we seek from others what our soul needs from us.
When we expect nourishment from outside, forgetting that it must comes from within.
As we all revolve in our own circles, carrying burdens. So why do we look to others to carry our burden for us, with us?
Maybe as humans are social beings, isn’t it natural to rely on others?
And a guarded soul always wrestles with these questions;
What is okay—learning to breathe on your own?
Or trusting your dearest ones when they seem to be the best people?
But then again ironically if they were truly that good, why does their closest one live in fear of being unheard ?
But anyways staying on our topic this art continues to amaze me.
My first lesson came when I was submerged in a sea of experiences, without knowing how to breathe or how to keep my mortal self afloat.
But human nature is just remarkable. We are born with certain instincts and a strong will to survive. And so, in one way or another, we learn this art.
And yet, life is an endless journey of experiences. Even when we find temporary places of rest, we eventually have to leave, right! Setting out on a new journey once more.
But remember ;
So let’s take a moment to appreciate those who have mastered this art and become the strongest versions of themselves.
And let’s never forget to encourage those still struggling in that vast sea of burdens, learning—day by day—how to breathe.
(Note: I just tried to scribble down a bit of something that was on my mind. Suggestions for improvement are appreciated, but negative criticism is not welcomed.)
No, not the kind that turns you into a marathon runner or an Olympic swimmer.
I mean the kind of breathing that helps you when life gives you lemons.
When you’re left alone to face yourself, striving to become a better version of who you are.
When you forget how to ask for help either because of some fear or because you’ve spoken up before—only to go unheard as;
"Not everyone has ears attuned to the sound of a crumbling soul."
"Not everyone can recognize the silent wail of a strong being carrying itself with grace".
"Not everyone can recognize the silent wail of a strong being carrying itself with grace".
In my opinion, we learn this art every day. Or perhaps we learn it once and practice it for as long as necessary until life demands we learn it again. But what happens when someone else is the one teaching you this art and actually squeezing the last breath out of you in the process?
Yeah, It happens when we seek from others what our soul needs from us.
When we expect nourishment from outside, forgetting that it must comes from within.
As we all revolve in our own circles, carrying burdens. So why do we look to others to carry our burden for us, with us?
Maybe as humans are social beings, isn’t it natural to rely on others?
And a guarded soul always wrestles with these questions;
What is okay—learning to breathe on your own?
Or trusting your dearest ones when they seem to be the best people?
But then again ironically if they were truly that good, why does their closest one live in fear of being unheard ?
But anyways staying on our topic this art continues to amaze me.
My first lesson came when I was submerged in a sea of experiences, without knowing how to breathe or how to keep my mortal self afloat.
But human nature is just remarkable. We are born with certain instincts and a strong will to survive. And so, in one way or another, we learn this art.
Sometimes, we cling to the fragile strings of hope.
Sometimes, we build shells around ourselves to stay afloat.
For some, those shells become impenetrable armor.
For others, they crack eventually.
But with the hope of better days, we learn to breathe.
We learn to exhale at the end of long days.
We keep breathing until we find our shore or should i say our temporary place to rest.
Sometimes, we build shells around ourselves to stay afloat.
For some, those shells become impenetrable armor.
For others, they crack eventually.
But with the hope of better days, we learn to breathe.
We learn to exhale at the end of long days.
We keep breathing until we find our shore or should i say our temporary place to rest.
And yet, life is an endless journey of experiences. Even when we find temporary places of rest, we eventually have to leave, right! Setting out on a new journey once more.
But remember ;
Those who truly thrive in this journey are the ones who remember how to rely on others without fear. Who knows how to break free from the chains of this fear of never being heard.
So let’s take a moment to appreciate those who have mastered this art and become the strongest versions of themselves.
And let’s never forget to encourage those still struggling in that vast sea of burdens, learning—day by day—how to breathe.
(Note: I just tried to scribble down a bit of something that was on my mind. Suggestions for improvement are appreciated, but negative criticism is not welcomed.)
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