Stop and breathe.
The humanity in me struggles to learn lessons the first time around. Experience is a brutal, tireless instructor for life. Over and over, I find myself sprinting on the treadmill of activity, running endlessly without moving in any direction, seldom stopping to catch my breath and acknowledge the miles I’ve clocked. But I am not the only one with this experience, am I?
Surely I’m not the only busy bee among the young adult crowd. College, for many students, is a busy time: I balanced classes, a job (or three), extracurricular activities, and leadership responsibilities each semester. After school, I figured, I’ll finally be able to breathe!
Reality sets in quickly. The rudest awakening came last spring, as my school-aged younger siblings and school-employed parents took a spring break Caribbean cruise, while I worked my 8-to-5 entry-level medical job in the cloudy Carolinas. My treadmill was still running and truthfully has never stopped. Every day, I care for patients, study, exercise, and play in a local concert band.
Spending time with friends has turned into a scheduled event instead of an impromptu campus rendezvous. The busyness of being a “real adult” is hardly different from that of being a college kid, only instead of earning grades, I’m now earning a living!
Stop and breathe.
It is easy to be overwhelmed! The most self-centered mind can be riddled with the ceaseless grind of advancement, and the most self-neglecting mind can be puzzled by the endless problems of the earth. Even with a perfect schedule, Murphy’s Law seems to dominate what free time I try to reserve. My workday runs smoothly until I need to call an ambulance and stay late until it ferries my patient to the ER. My bank account grows steadily until my car fries its entire power steering system. My plans to meet up with a friend for a movie persist until a wreck shuts down half of the interstate. My bedtime approaches promisingly until I get an email pronouncing an extended wait for my consideration for a grad school position. And of course, none of these mishaps happen in isolation; Murphy’s Law mandates they all happen simultaneously.
Stop and breathe.
Taking just four seconds for a healthy inhale-exhale cycle encourages the body and mind to pull the throttle from a breakneck speed to a resting state. Unlike on the racetrack, using four seconds of life to reset is not at all wasteful. It allows time to reorganize thoughts, prioritize actions, and confirm truths. In a breath, the tangled web of thoughts can be straightened and sorted. In a breath, immediate needs hidden beneath the mud of worries can be sifted to the surface and addressed. Most importantly, in a breath, lies and fears that battle for attention are cut down by truth. Sometimes, that truth is a surface reality: “I’m okay, I’m part of a team, we are doing our best, and that is enough for now” is a frequent affirmation of mine on a stressful workday. And sometimes, truth is a firm resolution: “I’m wonderfully made, God has purpose for who I am now, not just who He called me to be later” is a common recitation in my current in-between stage of life. Neither truth takes more than a breath’s time to remember.
There are 86,400 seconds in a day, so at a good average of four seconds per breath, a person will take 21,600 breaths per day. In each breath, life-supplying oxygen filters through the lung’s lining and into the bloodstream. This is an oversimplification of a brilliantly designed process, but it’s enough to build an analogy: when we stop and breathe, it’s as important to inhale truth as it is to inhale oxygen. Inhaling air without oxygen is damaging to the whole body, as is neglecting truth in what we tell ourselves. Just as a smoker’s lungs fail to enable oxygen absorption, failing to pause prevents us from absorbing truth.
Stop and breathe.
The mantra goes beyond brief respites in the thick of activity. A long time on the treadmill requires a long time to catch my breath. It takes an extended stop and consistent effort to moderate breathing. In college, I found the most effective time to pause was in the gaps between classes. I could stretch my legs, eat, and chat with friends while everything I needed for the day was either in the bag on my shoulder or a short walk to the dorm. Since entering the workforce and joining several activities, I found I needed a new way to slow my mind and exchange the overflowing stress of work for the peace of truth. I found a coffee shop with friendly staff, good drip coffee, and free Wi-Fi. It has become my favorite part of any day when I’m able to visit. I sit down at a small table with medical study materials or a book to read, allowing me to press pause on life beyond the coffee shop walls and accomplish something small. Whether I read for knowledge or fun, I feel a sense of happiness with each chapter I complete. Each little win reinforces the four-second truths I told myself throughout the day.
However, those little pauses are not a complete means to find rest in the craziness of life. They lack regeneration, as they do not necessarily revitalize the truths I recite, especially not the deeper ones. Just as plants supply oxygen for us to breathe, I also need a source of truth to give me a foundation to build upon day after day. I need a living source that offers promises of truth every time I turn to it. This is the Word of God. After all, God provided the first breath to mankind; He created the very mechanism of breathing. After a day of reminding myself to stop and breathe repeatedly, I try to end my day with a deep breath, filling my mind with His Word before I drift to sleep, resupplying my heart with truths to repeat tomorrow. Without Him, my four-second breaths throughout the day would be less effective, my coffee shop would be a hermitage for escape instead of a home for recovery, and I would soon become unable to find peace on the treadmill of life.
Life’s major victories and defeats, the little joys and sorrows in a day, and the unending wear of the mundane grind—these all take a toll on a person’s sense of peace. That life can be more than events, choices, and routines is truly a blessing. Sometimes we may be too distracted or overworked to find moments of repose, but those moments can be consciously earned . . .
Stop and breathe.