Oxygen For The Soul

by: Elaine Kiziah, PhD

I've been really busy lately — odds are you can identify with that — and so when I sat down to write in my journal this morning, I knew I really needed the time with myself.

But taking that time was a leap of faith. A gamble that it wouldn't put me further behind but instead would offer me something I genuinely needed in order to be able to rise to the challenges ahead.

And about three sentences in, I got a clear sign that my bet was paying off...

As I often do, I had begun my writing by simply checking in with myself — noticing my state of being and asking myself what I needed from my practice. And the moment I named that for myself, as soon as my answer appeared on the page, my body responded reflexively with a deep, calming intake of breath — and a slow release.

That physical reaction surprised me. But after some thought, it also seemed really fitting. Because what I'm doing with my journaling practice is like oxygen for my soul...

Being present with myself. Coming into the current moment and offering my loving attention to myself. Allowing myself to become still, to listen inwardly. And, by doing that, to also connect with and listen to something larger than myself.

Those things renew me.

Like blood cells bringing oxygen throughout the body (and shuttling away the carbon dioxide waste product), making deep contact in my journal clears out the residue from my past experiences and activities, and it offers me something pure and clean and renewing in its place. Not energy per se, but something invisible that allows me to call up energy in the moments ahead when I'll need it.

To take this analogy a little further, though, it's worth remembering that we don't just need the oxygen, but also the space to breathe it in.

When I had that physical reaction at the start of my journaling, I responded instinctively by sitting up a little straighter, stretching out my ribcage, creating more room for my lungs to expand. And I took a few more deep breaths — intentionally this time — making the most of this space I had offered myself.

I'm facilitating a journaling series about delight right now, inspired by poet Ross Gay's essays in his "Book of Delights". One of the things we've been noticing as we've been discussing this topic (and Gay seems to point to this in his writings too) is that delight doesn't show up when there's no space in our lives. When we're rushing from one thing to the next, it squeezes out delight.

I think it's that way with any renewing emotion, though, and any renewing practice. We have to create that space first, in order to be able to breathe in the kind of oxygen that restores our souls.

But I encounter so many people who feel guilty when they do that. Or who feel like they can't afford to do it. I myself fall into that trap from time to time too.

If you're one of those people — if you're like me sometimes — I have an answer for you. For us. And a question. But bear with me for a moment while I pull in one more important thread here...

And maybe you've already gotten there...

It's hard to contemplate this oxygen metaphor without thinking about George Floyd and the other Black Americans who have died in police custody, uttering the words "I can't breathe."

Or about the thousands in our hospitals right now whose lungs — clogged with the Coronavirus — are struggling to get oxygen into their bodies.

Our world needs us more than ever right now. It needs us to show up as our best selves, not weighed down by stress and unacknowledged emotions. It needs us to respond to this unprecedented moment with wisdom and compassion.

And in a way, it's also asking us to not take our own lives for granted.

For me, those moments of deep connection — with myself in my journal, with that ineffable something larger, but also with nature, or in heartfelt conversation with others — those oxygen-for-the-soul moments — are what makes life most worth living. And, probably not coincidentally, they're also what keeps me at my best.

But if we want those things, we have to intentionally make space for them.

So here's my question for you:

What is your oxygen? And how will you make sure you have space to get a big, deep, cleansing, renewing, life-giving breath of it?