When I was young, every breath came effortlessly, easily, without thinking or awareness. Movement happened smoothly like soft water over shiny stones. But today, breathing is a conscious effort sometimes. So I try to focus on something else. People’s lovely faces, the sound of a favorite song, the beauty an rhythm of words. Green things like trees and grass and eyes in familiar faces. Avocados and spinach and sugar peas. My little dog and my husband – my dearest companions. The safety of my house, the smell of morning coffee, walking on a nearby trail, books and movies and writing and prayer. The weather – an ever-present womb of fog and sunshine.