Breath
The bed is freshly made. Did I tell you we have eucalyptus sheets? They are the best - every time I enter, I feel transported. The color palette and feel are reminiscent of that transition point between the ocean surf and sand.
The word and the life-sustaining act of breathing have taken on new meaning for me in this new year. It’s the combination of those 8 minutes and 45 seconds* and how COVID-19 affects the respiratory system - both of which are expressions of man’s cruelty and inhumanity to its own.
I find myself taking—when I remember to do so—longer, deeper and fuller breaths that fill my body. I pay more attention to the exhale and then pause before I inhale again.
I no longer take it for granted that it will always be easy, even though it is more challenging than it used to be. Trauma will do that.
I have come to accept and recognize more fully now, though it was never lost on me, that staying alive and being for me draws a direct line to the choices and sacrifices that those who came before me made and which others in the present day continue to make
Breathing and being is communal. It is a gift. And when one of us is robbed of it, it is a communal loss, an affront to those who fought for our every breath and a loss for every single one of us.
So as 2020 begins to come to an end, as all things do, I am taking into this New Year the memories of the breaths of those who are no longer with us.
I do this as an act of remembrance for all that they were, all that they were yet to be and all that they will still be—for those that are come behind me.
——————
About The Author:
Jara Dean-Coffey (jdc) is Founder and Director of the Equitable Evaluation Initiative and the Founder of Luminare Group. For the past twenty-five years, she has partnered with clients and colleagues to elevate their collective understanding of the relationship between values, context, strategy and evaluation and shifting our practices so that they are more fully in service of equity. For more about musings + machinations click here.
