July: Breath

I've been thinking a lot about breath lately.

Not only because my dear friend and former Co-Executive Director, Hillarie Maddox, is out in the world helping people reconnect with themselves through breathwork, but because lately it feels like breathing is something I need to remind myself to do.

Often, it's the forest that reminds me. Or that sudden catch of breath when something unexpectedly beautiful happens. Perhaps that's where the word breathtaking comes from—not simply that beauty steals our breath, but that it asks us to notice it.

It's no secret that squirrels, chipmunks, and birds regularly visit my office. Some are brave enough to sit on my lap or perch atop my ever-open computer while I work. But recently, something extraordinary happened.

A hummingbird landed on my head.

It stayed there for just under a minute.

I didn't move. I didn't reach for my phone. I simply let this tiny being rest.

When it finally flew away, I realized I had been holding my breath—not out of fear, but perhaps out of awe. Or maybe I simply wanted to be utterly still, unwilling to disturb what felt like a small miracle.

And maybe that's part of what breathing asks of us.

To make room for the miraculous.

To believe in our dreams, even when the world feels uncertain.

To remember that every breath we take is shared with the trees, the moss beneath our feet, the hummingbirds, and one another.

July is here.

The land feels thirsty.

The world feels thirsty, too. At times, it feels as though it is holding its breath.

So how do we lean in? How do we remain present—with intention, with our practice, with our faith, with our way of being in the world?

Perhaps we water our gardens.

Perhaps we sit quietly in meditation.

Perhaps we pray.

Perhaps we lie down in a bed of moss beneath the cedars and simply breathe.

Sometimes, that is enough.

This month, may you remember to breathe deeply. May you notice the breathtaking moments that arrive without warning. May you leave room for wonder, for miracles, and for the quiet dreams still waiting to unfold.