Our breath: The most loyal of friends

ALWAYS WAITING FOR US TO RETURN

About six months ago, I was in a Zoom meeting with one of my Buddhist teachers and shared a recent experience in my sitting. I told him how I was silently counting my breaths in meditation and was suddenly moved to tears, not by a tangential thought or a physical discomfort, but by the realization of how faithful and loyal my breath had been and how this knowledge had perpetuated an overwhelming sense of gratitude and self-compassion.

This tender experience dawned like the rising sun and illuminated my inner consciousness. I realized how my seemingly insignificant little breaths had been ever-present throughout the decades before I realized the preciousness of this recurring human trait that defines our existence.

The tears welled in my 64-year-old eyelids and trickled down both cheeks. I felt significantly aware of how I'd taken my breath for granted all these years and only recognizing its value in times if aerobic deprivation or limited to the initial stages of sitting meditation.

How…