Miriam Feder home


Breathe in

Breathe in—not just into the belly, all loosened and lovely, not only into the skin where it can float a body, lift an arm, and roll from side to side. But breathe deeply into those dark spaces. Bring the light along with the lightness of air. Scare away the spiders of doubt and exhaustion, cramped spaces of too much instruction. Second third and fourth guesses be gone. Girdles of society–slide off. Light fills. Light lifts. Corners round out and forgotten muscles exhale, squeezing the last little bit of exhaustion out, readying for the next energized inhale.

And here it is. Welcome lungs—all lobes, wherever you’ve been plopped, plunged, and stacked. Go recruiting all around my body and fill it full of wide deep breaths. And feel them trickle away as muscles compress, bones fold over bones and the gaze turns inward. Then arch again and expand away, a billowing sail on sea of movement.