Santa Barbara Mornings: A Lesson in Breathing.

Butterfly Beach

 When was the last time you took a breath? A deep, satisfying, the weight-of-the-world-is-not-on-me-breath? You wake up to start your daily routine. Feed the dog, the cat. Take the kids to school. Take yourself to work. Work. Work. Work. Eight hours later, you fill the tank with gas, pick up the kids, feed the dog, feed the cat, feed the kids, yourself. Tuck everyone in for a good night's rest. Pay the bills, and on and on....and on.

But when do you breathe? When do you sit down, pull in all the air around you, push it deep, deep into your inner being, and then, and only when totally satisfied, and in a slow, methodical fashion, push it all out; clear your lungs, your mind? Aah, feel the satisfaction, that sense of relief, of pleasure.

That's what I did this morning. At Butterfly Beach. A pristine, sun-soaked stretch of sand in Santa Barbara. At 6:30 am, during a great minus tide where the water pulls back into the sea leaving the sand and all its remnants; exposing all sorts of flotsam and jetsam: broken shells, flattened stones, and, my favorite, colorful sea glass.