Holding My Breath

Breath holding.  That’s what this week felt like.  Last Friday, I walked out of school with a cascade of items on my agenda:  4 assessments, 1 concert at school, two late varsity tennis practices, a concert dress rehearsal at the beginning of the week, and the re-performance of OMG for the whole school [which ended up being cancelled due to an absentee].  Today, I walked out of the main door of school relieved…as if a giant breath as been released that had been trapped in my lungs 3 weeks before the last day of school.  I felt my shoulders less tense knowing I had made it through this difficult week that seemed to last too long, knowing that I had would be given the gift a moderately relaxing weekend as a reward.  

From beach in Port Douglas, Australia. 

Sometimes I hold my breath unconsciously, like when I’m taking a test.  I’m holding my breath, wondering whether I’ll know the answer to the following question.  Or when I’m backstage, wondering whether I can be my character on stage in front of the crowd.  Or when I’m approaching a shaky part on the piano with my chamber group, wondering whether I’ll mess up the fingering that I correctly play 60% of the time.  Life is full of surprises and I suppose the breath holding comes and goes with your attachments towards what you’re doing.  When it leaves, it’s almost like a light rain shower has just sprinkled through your life, cooling down the fire that’s causing stressful emotions.  But one thing I notice consistently when I hold my breath:  there’s always a sense of unsureness whether that be unsureness of a reaction or unsureness of an outcome.  I suppose I just have to be prepared.  So here I go, holding my breath then noticing it leave.