Feel your feet on the floor.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Repeat.

Now read to the end. (where you may or may not get a present)

I’ve made it my personal mission to help you feel fully fed so you can get on with living. And many things feed you. I’ve talked about this a bunch. Salad, sandwiches, relationships, money, meditation, your creative outlet, etc…

But seriously. There is one nutrient you cannot live without for more than a few minutes. Oxygen.

Breathing. Seems simple, right? We’re doing it unconsciously all day long. But how often are you actually paying attention to it?

Our entire life on earth is bookended by an inhale and an exhale and it’s only those bookends that get any play. A baby’s first inhale, spank! and the big hurrah of the dying breath. There are epic poems about these guys, they get loads of airtime. But how about all the breaths (on average by 80 yrs old you have breathed 672,768,000 times) in between? While you are actually living? What about all those hungry orphans?

I’ll tell you. Those orphans are the most powerful tool you have to navigate this crazy world. And you are ignoring them.

Stop it.

Breathing is your platinum key to peaceful times, technicolor dreams, digestion, staying in your own dance space, being a creative powerhouse, having excellent ideas and being nice – or at least, being clear. Breathing takes you out of the fracas and into the freedom.

Breathing relaxes your muscles and organs, it feeds your bones. That sweet O2 is clearing out whatever isn’t serving your body and mind any longer. Think of throwing open a window in the dusty attic, cool internal breezes, breath as broom, sweeping away the cobwebs.

Breathing relaxes the heart, which I promise is working it’s ventricles off trying to get enough of the good stuff into your blood, without any of your assistance, day in and out. How bout you help a vascular structure out already?

Breathing increases circulation and blood flow to the skin and other useful places for radiant good looks and racier racy times.

Deep breathing counters cravings for food, sugar, cigarettes, faking your own death to become an expat in Brazil, cracking skulls and buying gear you don’t need.

The practice of conscious breathing makes you responsive like those cats up in the ER rather than reactive like you were the last time someone told you no. Oh wait, that might have been me. Sigh. Take my word for it, it wasn’t pretty. Just one more deep breath before pressing send, OK? Breathe.

Let’s play a wee game.

Imagine you are a balloon animal. Any shape you want to be.

You can be a poodle, or a snake or that righteous bicycle that Vince Vaughn made the kid who called him a clown in the Wedding Crashers. Remember that? “Make me a bicycle, clown!”

You could be an Adrien Brody balloon. That would be nice for me.

But, whatevs, you choose. Just be the balloon. Got it?

Now, fill up the shape of you with bad ass breath. Inflate and animate yourself with each inhale, and let go with each exhale. Transform your deflated and exhausted self into floating party favor fervor. Inhabit. Make some new space.

Space. For you to have those fantastic ideas of yours. Space, to write or photograph something. Fall in love. Fall out of love. Dress up like Heather Locklear and curse the motherloving cider out of that heart-cracking, rock and roll kind of love. Whatever you do, do it with full, deep breath.

Baby, the world needs you to be as interesting as you possibly can be.

So, Do it. Like you mean it.

Breath is also key to group dynamic. The group’s breathing rhythms sync to the strongest breather in the crowd. And that, starlight, could be you.

You. Bringing it, all focused and fat full of love. You. Setting the peace-in, radiant faced tone of the room.

Your breathing as a service to the whole wide world.

So, what are you waiting for? Take another inhale. Let it out. Keep going.

Think well-oiled machine, strategic supernova, sexy skin and happy heart.

Breathe.

Do it today and tomorrow and all the days after that.

Do it during the holidays when your trigger finger is all itchy in traffic and behind the back of pompous Uncle George with the lazy eye which makes you unsure where the hell he’s actually looking. Boobs. Triggered. Breathe. See? Easy.

Do it. For you. For me. For your kids, For the tired drivers on the road and Adrien, Heather and Vince and Pervy Uncle George and everyone everywhere. I swear you will be rewarded with gratitude beyond and a lovelier world to live in while you’re in it.

You, my darling, are a revolutionary and you know it.

Breathe.

Do it again.

With me.

Sweet.

Love you.

P.S. The present. I made an MP3. Its around 12 minutes long. It’s a gorgeous little breathing exercise just for you. If you want it I’ll send it. It would be my pleasure. Just email me meg{at}megworden{dot}com and let me know you want it. Or just to say hey. Because I absolutely adore hearing from you.

P. P. S. I also wrote a book. It’s called Salad Alchemy. It’s seven lovely life shifting salads. And it’s pure magic. It would make a perfect gift for you or for your clients and friends. Check it out while you’re in the hood and pick yourself up a few. Hearts.

Photo credit unknown. Image is balloon art by Jeff Koons. May be subject to copyright.