The Breathing Rhythm of Scrapbooked Photographs

Oh am I awake.  Wide awake.  And I'm not speaking of jet lag.  But I have realized that since I came back, I've gone into this rhythm of listening to myself and allowing a meager creative experience to arise from the ordinary act of scrapbooking.  

For many years, I've told myself that I try this out.  I probably did when I was a lot younger but when you're life has been overtaken by the need to pound your fists at the boardroom tables and hit a 12 hour workday with no pat in the back, scrapbooking has no choice but to take a backseat. 

It's a big mistake, I would say, when you let your life be robbed off the balance it rightfully needs between work and the perimeter you keep for your own self.  I think for the first time in my life since I graduated business school I have felt more fulfilled tearing blue masking tape with my fingers than finishing a budget justification that was approved but that was barely read, hurriedly skimmed through and sits lazily inside a crisp brown envelope on top of an table desk-tray.

Putting printed photographs together has made more sense than sitting through 4 hours of meeting discussions that go in circles longer than a carousel but reaches no destination in sight.  

I can go on about this but I shall stop here.  I am simply grateful that I am given this time to breathe and to realize that anybody or any circumstance that robs me off the rhythm of breathing does not have to suffocate.  I can inhale the sufficient grace breathing upon me from the the Life that gives me All my Breath.  

Nothing else gives me my breath than His grace.  For HE is the breath of this life.  The breath of Mine.

Peace be with you.  As the Father has sent me, so I send you.  And when he said this, he breathed on them and said to them, Receive the Holy Spirit.  - John 20: 21-22


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