I sit stock still.

My feet crossed uncomfortably beneath me on my bed. My eyes shut tight against the world.

My mind attempts to empty itself, like a bucket being poured.

Noise drifts up from downstairs, but I drown it out.

In and out, in and out, in and out. Slowly. Deliberately.

In through the nose, hold it, and release.

That’s the meditation way.

Again and again I repeat this process, unsure of what to expect.

It hits me suddenly and out of the blue.

An involuntary breath escapes my body, and my shoulders, unknowingly tense and rigid before, sag with relief and weariness.

I look at my phone. Just three minutes have passed.

I quite like this meditation way. I will walk this road again sometime.

I will breathe again.