“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven..." (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)
Drizzle–light drizzle.
Like glaze on a bundt cake. A soft crackling, tiny wet drops hitting dry concrete, not yet warmed by the sun, surprised awake by the cool moistness of the persistent pattering. Washing summer dust from the ground, the leaves…scrubbing the smoke from the sky.
Smell wafting through my open window, cleansing the palate of my mood, beckoning me: Breathe deeply, slowly. Savoring breaths, releasing sighs of summer almost gone.
Where did it go? Will there be another? Maybe. But with each summer so much changes. Summer to summer in childhood is a leap from one planet to another. In old age it’s traversing galaxies. “Where no man has gone before.” Always men, why not women? Except he has, she has–they have. There is nothing new under the sun; there is a season…turn, turn, turn. Selah.
The world keeps turning and so do I. My neck turns toward the open window, and my head must follow. My eyes see the sky getting lighter–so quickly, so quietly. The earth is spinning. I can almost feel it spinning. I have no choice but to turn, to spin with it, a journey I didn’t choose.
I tell myself I have choices. (Breathe, hold your breath, release it.1) I tell myself I have autonomy, a sense of control. I tell myself this is good. Until something happens that is out of my control, that feels “not good.”
The dry hardness of my unrelenting heart, baked in the heat of seemingly endless summer, is surprised by the intrusion of rain. Unbidden tears spring wetly with cleansing moisture, unwelcome to my comforting sameness. Is this grace? This change, forced on me, turning my head toward the lightening window, bidding me to gulp in the scent of freshness, expectation…hope?
I watch from my chair, tempted to go closer to this familiar newness, to stand in it fully, letting the gentle drops touch my skin, feeling the breeze2 blowing me forward into this new season.
Breathing is a very quick, effective way to calm your nervous system when you feel dysregulated. It’s not woo-woo, it’s got science behind it! I will share more of that in the future. In the meantime, here are 3 types of breathing you can try:
Square breathing–Breathe in through your nose to a count of 4, hold for a count of 4, breathe out through pursed lips to a count of 4, hold for a count of 4. Repeat 4 times.
Ocean breathing–Breathe in through your nose to a count of 5 and then immediately breathe out to a count of 5, then immediately repeat, doing this sequence several times, imagining waves coming into the shore and then receding with each in-breath and out-breath.
Physiological sigh–Breathe into stomach through nose, then immediately top that off with another breath into chest, then release slowly through pursed lips. Repeat several times. This mimics what your body does after a hard cry, when you are beginning to calm and involuntarily take in a couple of quick double-breaths, then sigh. See Dr. Huberman’s explanation of this.
Using your senses to ground you is another effective way to integrate your body and your mind when you feel fragmented or numb. Some call this tool 5-4-3-2-1. It’s simple: Name (out loud is good!) 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste.