Learning to Breathe, Learning to Live
In my thirties, I attended an Art of Living class. I remember a part where we were asked to focus on our breathing, and I was so annoyed that this was a class I was wasting three good hours of my time on. Angry, in fact, that I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“That’s it!” Was that the great epiphany I was supposed to have? I remember feeling so claustrophobic and suffocated that I could cry, just because I was required to sit still and take deep breaths. Yet, despite my desire to bolt, I couldn’t get out of it because I had accompanied my best friend Usha , and I didn’t want to disappoint her.
Now, I take deep breaths all the time. Oh wow, what a feeling! I can’t even tell you! In…filling your lungs with oxygen and then, slowly and steadily, you exhale. You even pay attention to the sound of your breath as you do, and it sounds so good because you know that’s what relief sounds like.
Finally, in my fifties, I can enjoy those long, deep breaths; it just happens without thinking. Sometimes, even when writing, working on a technical or a video, and being fully focused, it occurs to me to indulge in a deep breath.
Life in “Runnin’ Mode”
I have finally shed that incessant anxiety like dead, flaky, dry skin. Quietly, gently, imperceptibly as all my worries, preoccupations and urgent this or urgent that, alhamdullilah have been left way behind in the past. I think the best way to describe how I felt back then is this song I love, “Runnin’” by David Dallas. Yeah, precisely. I remember having to run to catch the timing for salat, like chasing after a bus about to leave the station.
Being in “Runnin’ Mode” all the time and dealing with constant anxiety – I vividly remember once standing in an elevator with a couple of my team members, and I swear I could almost hear and feel a lock of hair turning grey, so much so that I checked my reflection in the mirror to see if it was really happening. It was a sensation my mother described experiencing herself. I didn’t believe it, until it happened to me.
No More Running: Gratitude and Peaceful Sleep
Another thing I get to fully enjoy now is a whole night of restful sleep. The kind of sleep where you put your head on the pillow and you have only one thing on your mind: gratitude. Gratitude to the Almighty because your loved ones are healthy and happy. You’re healthy. Gratitude that He picked you up with His Mercy through all the tests and trials and delivered you to safety. You don’t have any debts and you’re not afraid of losing a job. There’s nothing urgent you need to prepare for the next day because you’re organized and everything is going according to schedule. There’s no one coming to you last minute in a panic telling you the whole world is crashing down and you need to do something to stop it. And you realize that just the idea and the awareness of it all is bliss.
So, you recite Ayat Alkursi, the final act of surrendering your will to the Almighty, and whisper Alhamdulillah Rabb Al-Alameen for everything. Akbar has a term for it: “Sell your horses.” And in that quiet moment, that’s exactly what I do. I close my eyes and slip gently into deep, blissful sleep, realizing that true wealth is exactly this feeling itself that fills your soul. For most of my life, I had real trouble sleeping—I never imagined it could ever be this easy.
Celebrating Life’s Meaningful Moments
Tomorrow, the first day of Eid in Jordan, Akbar and I have plans with my mother. The second or third day of Eid, we’ll be with my uncle Kamal and my cousins. Most likely we’ll be enjoying a delicious Jordanian Mansaf.
For everyone still searching for meaning, I think, this is it.
I felt this reflection would be better expressed in sound and visuals than in words alone. If you’d like to experience it this way, here’s a short video I made.
To all my brothers and sisters around the world, Eid Al Fitr Mubarak to you and your lovely families. May your lives overflow with bliss.
