While studying a setting sunflower, I was reminded of how remarkable this season’s shift is in the seasons of the breath. The movement from full expansion and blooming in the lungs into the releasing and deflating of these vital organs is vulnerable. It’s a reminder that as much as we want to attach to the blossoming and ablaze of the top of the inhale, the shy surrender of the exhale is its essential compatriot.

One of my favorite takes on stress is by Jill Miller, the author of Body by Breath, who wrote, “Stress is the body’s way of adapting to a life that is overwhelming our internal ecosystems.” I love this perspective because I lean towards wanting to erase the stress. But that is a never-ending battle. Instead, it’s about noticing the emotions, the thoughts, and sensations that make up “stress” to remember there is choice when navigating life’s overwhelm.

In this season of the inhale hold, I’ve been playing with writing haikus and tankas every day. They’ve lived in my notes on my phone. On sticky notes and edges of my journal. They’ve come alive at July’s Protalk Summer Story Slam, where everyone came up unexpectedly to breathe into their stories of making waves. And, at the Saratoga Spa Park when I led a breath walk as part of Best Buddies’ summer programming.

As I listened to Yellowcard and Third Eye Blind on Tuesday outside of the gates of SPAC and the lyrics, “she got her jaws now locked down in a smile but nothin is alright”, blared through the gates, my mind drifted back to Sarah of four years ago.