I keep forgetting to breathe.
Not literally, that’s autonomic. But if I pause and take notice I realize that I am barely, barely drawing in air, exhaling air.
With the reminder, I breathe in deeply, slowly. Exhale deeply, slowly. A few times.
And immediately forget until the next time I notice the shallowness.
Over the last year I have juggled an array of emotions ranging from absolute fury to absolute despair. And very little peace in between. The state of the world, the state of the world! What are they doing to us? How can I accept the ongoing lies and the Orwellian restrictions, literally trying to suffocate me, when that is so wrong, wrong, wrong?
And the little voice says: no wonder you keep forgetting to breathe. Perhaps it is not entirely your fault. A tree that is staked crookedly in the earth will follow the stake and cant sideways, even though it wants to grow straight up to the sun.
I scan the headlines on a favorite alt website. Another atrocity from the Supreme Court. A lawsuit filed in the U.S. to prevent the imposition of mandatory vaccinations. A Swedish professor hounded into silence after his factual revelations about Covid draw the ire of those wanting to perpetuate this supposed new normal.
I check in with my breath. The headlines do not encourage deep breathing. I draw breath in, exhale. Close out the alt website and put aside the headlines for now.
The thing is, I believe there is a new normal. I believe it is already here in some inchoate fashion, almost beyond perception or description.
But not the new normal so many perceive, fatalistically accepting what they think they cannot fight. Or should not fight. After all, “the authorities“ surely know what is best for us. They certainly keep telling us so. And the unwary among us keep allowing that message to penetrate.
Still, I wonder how compliant the masses really are. I was out the other day and although everyone was wearing masks, I sensed a superimposition on the view around me that had nothing to do with what my eyes were seeing. In this awareness, people had no masks on. Exactly as I have dreamed several times over the last year. Maskless and free.
It makes no sense and I cannot explain it. I, too, wore a mask when forced to, upon entering any establishment. I felt the cloth on my face, the straps around my ears, warm breath pushing back against my skin and into my nose as I breathed.
Did I develop x-ray eyes? Could I suddenly see through those colorful masks and the ubiquitous blue medical version that litter our gutters and sidewalks, to the skin and the lips and the noses beneath those despised coverings?
Something is shifting. Something has already changed. Whether it is “the shift“ or some esoteric dimensional dance that is beyond my desire to parse, I haven’t a clue. I’m not sure that I need to be clued up in a logical way.
I reckon I don’t need to know if I’m only imagining what I believe I’m seeing or if I am in fact “seeing” another dimension overlaid upon this one we appear to still be stuck in.
I do know that next time I go out, I will be looking for the smiles beneath the masks, viewing curved lips with my x-ray eyes. And I will be sensing the free breathing, the deep lungfuls of fearlessness, even if someone, somewhere, is telling me to be afraid.
“I’m feeling done with being directed. You know, the whole thing about just wanting to know the truth of what’s happening rather than being influenced by perceived events and information / disinformation…This surface stuff is growing tiresome. I’m all in for a happy ending to this highly orchestrated chaotic period on Earth, and soon. It’s coming…this I know.” ~Suzi Maresca on her Buy Me a Coffee site, March 10, 2021