Every breath

I suppose it  makes sense that a lack of oxygen would dull your senses, but as a child with asthma, the only thing that I knew was droll. Never much to play, never much to perform, never much to notice at all, but when you wanted me I was always there, smiling in my oxygen deprived reality. I used to sit in trees a lot. My mother tells the story how I hid away in the branches of our backyard tree, but in my mind I was sitting there, grateful for the chance to climb above the struggle of moving over ground. Happy to sit there in my happiness to breathe.

I'm still somebody that finds happiness in small things. I get captivated by beauty, and I'm easily enthralled. I have a deep appreciation of the growth and development that is possible if you can get over the struggle to take a deep breath and just do it, and I still to this day hate people that don't. Though hate is an emotion I only had to confront much later in my life... To me, making the most of it is not only a way to live, making the most of every breath I took was life.