I have a habit that drives my kids crazy but keeps me sane. I sigh. I guess I do it much more than I realize, because every time it happens, somebody asks, What did I do wrong now? <\/p>\n
But what they dont realize is I sigh for a very good reason. <\/p>\n
I sigh so I dont scream. There are times during the course of my day when screaming would be the perfect, automatic response. Like when the garbage bag tears, when I open my hydro bill, when I realize that one of the kids ate the last brownie or when my cat jumps on the counter and eats a big chunk out of the roast. <\/p>\n
But in most places and cases, screaming isnt considered an appropriate response. If I had opened that hydro bill at the post office, for example, and let out a loud shriek, there would no doubt be a small crowd of frightened people frozen with their keys in their hands, frantically wondering which exit would get them out the fastest. <\/p>\n
If I started hollering in the store when I saw the price of groceries, mothers would quickly and silently pull their children to another aisle. So, instead of shrieking, I sigh. And if I listen real close, I realize Im not the only one doing it. <\/p>\n
I hear them in lineups at the bank, in waiting rooms and beside hospital beds, at traffic lights, and in lunch rooms when coffee break is over. I hear sighs from school teachers when the same kid in the back row is whispering again and outside dressing rooms when the person inside asks for another size. <\/p>\n
The act of sighing is truly an amazing thing. We unconsciously breathe in the bad, processing it, letting the reality of the number on the bathroom scale or the total on the invoice sink in. Then, when our soul is ready to release it, we let it go, slowly, carefully relinquishing that initial response of pain, shock or disappointment, not even realizing that our body performed its own self-protective therapy without our permission, and all with a single breath. <\/p>\n
A sigh speaks volumes. Someone once said that most of the sighs we hear have been edited. If we could hear the full version, they would tell of our anger, frustration, dismay and fear. They would reveal something beneath the serene surface. But instead of the whining, the complaining and the expletives, we simply hear the sigh. <\/p>\n
Along with release, a sigh signals submission or acceptance. Its silent permission our bodies give us to get over it and move on. <\/p>\n
Its a form of meditation we often arent even aware were doing. Driving home from the hospital the other day, after visiting a loved one, I noticed this blazing sunset in the distance. Instead of heading home, I drove west to the outskirts of town and pulled over to the side of the road, ready to receive this amazing gift of colour God had painted for me. <\/p>\n
I watched the oranges and reds blend and fade and noticed other cars slowing and drivers staring at the crazy woman standing in the cold gazing up at the sky. And as the last little fringe of gold sunk into the horizon, I sighed. It said, Wow. Today was tough. Tomorrow will be better. And if the last thing I ever see is this sunset, Ill die happy. Funny, how one little breath can say so much. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Read more here:<\/p>\n
COLUMN: Don't Mind the Mess - Take a deep breath - Winnipeg Free Press<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I have a habit that drives my kids crazy but keeps me sane. I sigh. I guess I do it much more than I realize, because every time it happens, somebody asks, What did I do wrong now? Continue reading