Sitting down at my desk I try, once again, to write.
Being
fully aware that there is no try—only doing or not doing—I realize what
I really mean is to write something good. Every foray into the creative
zone for me lately has been a dismal, disappointing spewing of crap not
worthy of rereading myself let alone sharing with others. Yet here I
sit, once again, trying.
I lean back and let my eyes wander around my office. Photos of
beautiful places and inspirational phrases neither transport nor
inspire me, save for one that states: “Life is not measured by the
number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath
away.” Ah. Breathtaking moments. Let’s see...that weekend in Door
County was breathtaking. Steve and I so shiny and new, wandering
through eclectic art shops, holding hands, falling in love. He bought
me that plaque then; a souvenir of our magical weekend together. I was
mesmerized by our comfortable banter, the electricity between us, his
blue eyes studying me so intently, so sincerely. He truly took my
breath away.
That feels so long ago now.
Slumping back, sliding deeper into my chair—and my gloom—I search my
memory for recent moments that have left me breathless. Picture perfect
Kodak moments don’t spring to mind but instead I recall my sharp intake
of breath at the audacity of something one of my sons has said to me,
leaving me feeling disrespected and forlorn. The gasp that comes after
hearing some of the things that come out of the mouths of our current
high level candidates. The shallow, wincing breaths I take while
walking gently on my fractured foot. A quick inhale as I abruptly stop
myself from saying something to Steve that I just know he really
doesn’t want to hear. Followed by a deep sigh.
My life has offered me few truly breathtaking moments lately. The good
ones, I mean. A spectacular sunset, cradling a newborn baby, the
perfect kiss. The ones you want to measure your life by. And yet, if I
go back far enough, I have been blessed with some real breath takers:
giving birth to a child, diving to the bottom of the ocean, saving a
life, romantic adventure, my words being published, hanging with rock
stars and basking in dramatic sunrises and sunsets across the globe.
Finds of all magnitude have made me catch my breath from finding the
right guy to finding a great house to finding a fantastic pair of
shoes, in my size, on sale. More than enough moments to measure. My
glass is not just half full—my cup runneth over.
And so what of the bad ones? A myriad of breathless moments we collect
in our lifetime that stop us in our tracks. The choking moments of
loss, pain or grief when we can’t breathe at all. When we are
hyperventilating in shock or anguish. When life knocks the wind out of
us. That is when we need to take a very deep breath. In and out.
Remembering that to breathe is to inspire.
I see the inspiration in my recent breathless moments, those that left
me frustrated or even pissed off. They have moved me to detach when I
need to, to look at myself and see where others may be frustrated with
me, to educate myself, and talk about, the state of the world and the
people who hope to move our country forward. Each moment has inspired
me to do something. Even if it was to sit down and put my foot up.
I am sitting up taller in my chair now, pleased that I wrote something.
It doesn’t feel like it’s very good, but it isn’t total crap. I turn to
look out the window and am startled by the crimson and burnished gold
of the leaves that have turned so suddenly. I hadn’t noticed yet that
Fall has arrived. Sunlight pours down casting long shadows on the
ground as perfect clouds drift slowly across an azure sky. A breeze
catches a flurry of loose, golden leaves and carries them gently down
to the rooftop below. Oh, my. How pretty.
It’s breathtaking.
Lisa Dalton is a Life Coach, speaker and co-author of A Guide To
Getting It: Purpose & Passion. She specializes in personal and
professional development and life transitions for women as they explore
beneath the surface to create the life they love in the life they have.
Visit her website at www.godeepcoach.com
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