There are times when I write, and it feels like breathing. This is one of them.
Like breath. Essential, easy, effortless. A flow that is so simple and natural I have no conscious awareness of activity and my involvement in it. No awareness of time or place passing.
In these moments, I am. It is that simple. Two words, I am. I feel no boundary between me and all around me. I am. We are.
This is pure pleasure, when writing is like breathing. Writing for the pleasure of hearing thoughts pass through, for the pleasure of feeling my hand roll and loop and form words on a page. Writing because here in this moment all is perfect.
When writing is like breathing, all is whole. Nowhere is anything broken or chipped away. I feel settled, at peace in mind and body, content in heart and spirit.
When writing is like breathing, I am blessed. Writing this way, when it happens, is pure gift. I am my truest self. A feeling through every cell in my body, I am. I am love, I am joy, I am breath.
When writing is like breathing, I am my river voice, flow and music. I am life writing life.