Breathing comes so naturally to us. I only find myself paying close attention to my breath when I am anxious, meditating, or trying to calm myself down. I don't have to remind myself to breathe unless grief comes to visit or when anger steals my joy.
Over the last decade or two, I have spent more and more of my time walking among the words. I have noticed when I am happy and when I am not, nothing brings light to my soul better than walking through the wooden bookshelves with the pages that are bound together with dreams of creators. I find myself there among the words on the back of a book.
Just down the road and around the corner there sits a beautiful bookstore. The walls lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, and sliding wooden ladders everywhere I look. Large chairs are inviting people to sit and get comfortable scattered about, and on Saturdays, there is a group of children curled up on the floor looking longingly as that weekend's book lover reads to them. It's beautiful how a book read to a child can become part of their identity.
I know that there is always a book, always a velvety paperback or a textured hardcover that is a collection of words that will bring light to what can feel dark and encourage dreams I hold close to my heart.
As I walk down each aisle, I often run my fingers across the spines of the books. I let my fingertips feel the textures before my eyes see the art. I turn the pages to learn about the author. I find the first sentence, and I am home. Once a book becomes a safe place for me to rest I can not part with it. I draw it in, and it breathes mystery and unknown joy. I may not bring every book home to live on my shelves and impact my identity, but my collection grows, and my heart grows with it.
One day my memoir will sit on a shelf alongside the others. On that day I will sit in a chair nearby. I will hold a cup of coffee, and I will breathe. Not everyone that comes past that shelf will stop to see it there, nor will everyone that sees it take it home. However, there will be someone that comes in needing words to help them breathe, and it will be there to help them feel at home.
May you go and find a safe place to breathe, and may you rest in truth and grace.
