Having spent a large part of my life vacillating wildly between riding the current and catching my breath, I’ve come to appreciate finding a balance between the two. The presence that seamlessly connects the freedom of “riding” on faith with the surety of “catching” hold of something is pervasive, yet so easily lost. I’ve come to realize (for me anyway) that the connection – staying centered, authentic, and with peace – is not about effort or strength, nor is it fixed and solid. Rather, to connect is about a commitment to the intangible, the impermanent. To paraphrase so many great thinkers: It’s the way, not the destination.

While breath helps me maintain that connection, I do recognize it is only a guide. It opens me to experiences that are beautiful and disturbing, quiet and disconcerting, vibrant and vapid, tame and wild, yet it is not the source of those experiences, which would exist with or without me. So, what is it? What is this space the holds me but refuses to be held?