Sitting in my tight jeans overflowing with a muffin top of red and green sprinkled holiday cookies and coffee cake, I am squeezed beyond the gripping, hustle bustle of the season, heading for a crash landing into my next sugar-free, mortgage-accelerated, romance-filled, mom-of-the-year chapter of New Year's resolutions.
I have positioned myself with a Zen book of mindfulness, aware that I am breathing in and breathing out while hearing blasting horns of holiday wrap-up and fumbling for receipts to return ill-fated gifts and bits of sanity. I am clearing my plate, cleaning my slate, and picking up fallen pine and pieces from a decorated house and life that resemble a Norman Rockwell painting from a fingerprint-smudged window. I am decluttering my breathing room that has been trashed by a flash mob of stress.
Breathing room is the gentle space in the home of realistic expectations, life made easier, flexibility, faith and positivity. Its recent guests have included a neighbor who lifted my fallen Christmas tree and child's spirits; my mother's touch; and, Amazon Prime two-day free shipping. Gratefulness, peace and joy have also lingered in their soft, fluffy slippers.
This year, I will paint my breathing room lavender. I will ensure it is fully furnished. I will prop my feet up in its easy chair. I will invite gratefulness, peace and joy for a longer stay. I will breathe.
- Where do you need breathing room in your life?
- What would fill your breathing room?
- Who or what gives you breathing room?
P.S. Dedicated to my Mom, whose parting gift of home-made turkey soup this week will save me money and anguish at the grocery store perplexed by what to eat for dinner. It might even help me to better fit into my pants.
