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Your breath is your medicine.

Life explodes. The world blows up in your face. All the things that could go wrong, just do.

And how do you react?


I feel ya. And I hear ya, loud and oh so clear.

When life gives us lemons, for most of us, it's our natural instinct to react immediately based on what our emotions and the chemicals in our bodies are telling us to do. NOW. LIKE, RIGHT NOW. IF YOU DON'T REACT, YOU MIGHT DIE. Sorry bro, in most cases, that's just not true. But if you're being chased by a giant wild creature, REACT. OMG F'N REACT. In most other instances, this is what you can do:

This might be some of the most solid advice you've ever received. Take a breath. That's it. That's the advice. You're welcome. Sounds too easy, doesn't it? Because it is.

When shit hits the fan, our minds and our bodies dive right into fight mode, with little to no control, then we immediately react. This reaction is not always the type that serves our greatest good. Most of the time, it causes panic, anger, frustration, impatience, which then leads into a physical reaction, like palpitations, inability to catch one's breath and sending that text you shouldn't have sent. When you begin to feel the emotions arise, this is when you take a breath. A big, fat, juicy breath from the bottom of your soul. When you exhale, let all that fight response energy out of your face. Do it again. Don't feel relief yet? Do it 10 more times.

What this does, is regulates and balances the rush of energy pulsing through your body to help control your reaction. It makes room for peace. It makes room for love. It makes room for a reaction that will have you feeling proud of yourself for handling the fan-hitting shit with grace.

I realize that not every situation is easy to navigate or handle depending on the people involved, their energy and the circumstances that come with all that. However, every situation deserves to be handled with love. If nothing else, with love for yourself. If something happens, and it feels awful or icky or out of alignment with who you are, TAKE THAT BREATH. I swear it will help you decide what to do that IS in alignment with you. With your soul. With your purpose. And it will be for the greater good of everyone involved.

A couple weeks ago, I blew a tire. My immediate reaction what "OH SHIT. I'm going to be late for everything! My whole day is F'd! I have to cancel all my sessions! THIS IS THE END OF THE WORLD!" Mind you, this all went through my head the very first second after the tire blew.

I took a deep ass breath, and pulled off the road. I sat there for another second, and took another deep breath. I got out to assess the damage and called my husband. No answer. I took another deep breath.

When I was 16, my dad brought me out to the garage and showed me the proper way to change a tire in an emergency. I never, in 21 years of driving, had to bust out these skills. But this was the day. So I took a deep breath. I ran through the steps in my head and decided I was fully capable of saving my own ass. I crawled underneath the truck to get my spare. I was lying on my back using every ounce of strength I had to get that giant fuckin wing nut off to let my spare down. It wouldn't budge. Completely rusted on. I took a deep breath.

I crawled out from underneath, and went in the backseat looking for a hammer or something I could pound this thing with to get it off. Nothing. Then I remembered the conversation my husband and I had the night before. He said, "You need to get that toolbox back in your truck in case something happens on the road." HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA. Fuck. I took a deep breath.

Then, I thought I could just use the jack to pound on that stupid ass wing nut to bust it loose. So I went to retrieve it from underneath the passenger seat. Oh, how fancy! It's secured with a wing nut. Guess what? That bitch wouldn't turn either. So I rummaged around and I found a needle nose in my center counsel! YES!!! But, no. This wingnut, also fused to my truck's very soul, wouldn't budge.

I stepped back from the truck, looked her over, took a deep breath, and called Sugardick again. Still no answer.

At this point, I had pretty much already decided to call a service truck to come save my ass, but I've learned the hard way, not to make costly decisions on the fly. Yes, I had to cancel the plans I had, but no one was going to die or even be upset about it, so there was no need to hasty or rushed. My husband and I have an agreement to always discuss the next move when shit like this happens so that we don't end up paying dearly for it. SO ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE, SUGARDICK. I took a deep breath.

I snapped a photo of the damage and sent it to him with the caption, "I need help, sir. My spare is rusted on. My jack is also rusted on. Cry-laugh emoji."

No response.

Call again. No answer. Another deep breath.

At this point, I'm about 15 minutes in to this whole escapade. My phone rings. I took a deep breath, "Oh, hey Sugar. How's your day going? Say, could use a little guidance here."

That is actually how I responded when he finally called me back. I didn't lose my shit or scream at him for not answering the first time. I didn't cry or profess my utter impatience and frustration and spew curse words. Why? Because I spent the 15 minutes prior to that regulating ALL that shit with my breath. And it worked. And because I chose to use my breath as my strongest tool and weapon, things fell beautifully into place.

I called up a service truck, they were there within 20 minutes. Jesse, the service truck savior, brought with him a matching tire from a used set at the tire shop. He balanced and mounted it right on the spot and had me back on the road within minutes. I just sat and waited, breathing easy. But it get's better. So the tires on my truck, let's just say, should've retired a few thousand miles ago. But being the truck is about ready to be turned over to her next owner, I didn't want to drop the 1400 bones it would take to get her new shoes. Yeah I know. Rude. But I was just trying to get her through the tough times until we found her replacement. I called up to the shop owner, Kevin, to pay for the tire and the service call. He offered me the other three tires from the set for a price I couldn't refuse. Long story short, I saved $1000 on a set of tires. And I basically became besties with Jesse AND Kevin. Blessings all around.

Moral of the story: If you just TAKE A BREATH, you allow ease to enter your being. TAKE A BREATH, and allow the calm to scoop you up and hold you. TAKE A BREATH, and then decide how the best version of you will react. TAKE A BREATH, and let blessings flood your life. Your breath is your best medicine. It'd be a shame to keep wasting it.

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