I’m ready to breathe again.

I’ve sat here for an hour and half and deleted words, closed documents, switched over to reading books and now I’m back again.

The image that keeps coming into my brain tonight are all the people who moved through the night to see the baby Jesus. Now, I know historically, it wasn’t during December, who knows if it was cold; but all I can see is their breath on the air as the moved through the night to get to the manger.

Their breath moving in front of them, as they walked to meet the baby that would change everything.

And all I can think of our the words I wrote when my mom passed. That even though we were devastated she was gone, she was finally able to breathe again.

I think for the last three years I haven’t been breathing.

I mean I have obviously, been breathing. I’ve been living, moving forward, making choices, trudging through sickness, maneuvering through grief.

But, I’ve realized, that this holiday season I just want to breathe.

It sounds so simple, so cliche’. 

People say they want to have breathing room, have space to breathe. That they just need to take a breath.

To me breath is more than space and room.

It’s being alive in a different way than I used to be.

One of the collection of words I deleted simply stated that I feel like I’ve failed this year. 

But, really, I think I’ve just been holding my breath in hopes that it would make a difference. That when I came up for air there would be clarity.

And now, this span of time of holidays, I just want to breathe. I want to take deep breathes to my toes.

I know these words don’t feel very holiday. They feel stilted and tired.

These words need to breathe.

So that’s where I am this Sunday before Christmas.

That’s where I am in the last days of 2024.

I’m going to breathe.

I hope you’ll join me.

With love,

Meg