Catching a Breath

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Morphing.”

I just gave a big yawn. That process involves a gulp of a big chunk of air and I don’t think all of it went inside my chest. All of it came out after staying only a couple of seconds on my throat. Breathing is deeper than that. The air pushes itself all the way into the gut, you can feel it because it makes your chest and stomach rise and fall  as the air is inhaled and exhaled.

When I took care of a family member in a hospital I witness how someone catches her last breath, the gap between inhaling and exhaling gets shorter and shorter, quicker and quicker, each breathing hankers to get in touch with the next and the next until the link is lost.  The preciousness of life is one breath away. Then the doctor said she was gone. She didnt catch the next breath.

Sometimes I run out of breath.  Each  breath is making a chain to the next one and the next  then I catch my own breath until regularity is established then I get back to my normal breathing. Breathing brings oxygen into my brain, feeds and refreshes the cells and helps in lengthening life.

When I am angry I catch my breath, too. A kind of heat goes into my head and I need to speak out and express an emotion. At this moment I forget to catch my breath, because the emotion is overpowering until my system signals this  need for air, then I gasped for air to catch that breath.

There are  times we hold our breath as if we could put them in  our hands, keep it or save it and use it in times of emergency. I saw first aid responders doing mouth to mouth resuscitation and save lives in the process.

Breath is life and life is breath. We think that our life is in our hands. We run for it, catch it, hold it. No matter what we do, we are only one breath away.

 

 

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