Welcome to Between Breath and Sea.
I'm Kimberly Escamilla and I'm glad you're here.
Let's begin by finding a comfortable seat either lying down or sitting up with a strong spine.
Legs cross and hands resting on your knees.
Whatever position feels comfortable to you.
Close your eyes or lower your gaze and let's take a few deep grounding breaths.
Inhale.
And exhale.
Inhale.
And exhale.
Joy.
So often if you were like me,
You see people on social media with idealized imagery of experiencing joy or bliss or living their quote-unquote best life.
Yet our own experience of joy can at that very moment feel so far away or out of reach as we scroll or gaze in comparison.
We need to be reminded that external moments,
Possessions,
Events,
Milestones are all fleeting.
Of course,
We all love to celebrate,
To toast,
To shine.
But the road to joy is quiet.
It is slow.
It is like the unfamiliar trail through a forest,
A mountain,
A desert,
Or a jungle.
It carries you,
This trail,
To the water,
To the source,
To home.
Joy arises from showing up for yourself when no one is looking.
Being able to put yourself on the path each day and find that smile radiating within.
When you love who you are,
Then expressing that joy is inevitable,
Natural,
And it feels good.
So how can we move forward?
Let's listen to a poem by Ada Limón called The Last Thing.
First,
There was the blue wing of a scraggly,
Loud jay tucked into the shrubs.
Then the bluish black moth drunkenly tripping from blade to blade.
Then the quiet that came roaring in like R.
J.
Corman over Broadway near the RV shop.
These are the last three things that happen.
Not in the universe,
But here in the basin of my mind,
Where I'm always making a list for you.
Recording the day's minor urchins,
Silvery dust moat,
Pistachio shell,
The dog eating a sugar snap pea.
It's going to rain soon.
Close clouds bloated above us,
Like the air a net about to release.
All the caught fishes,
A storm siren in the distance.
I know you don't always understand,
But let me point to the first wet drops landing on the stones.
The noise like fingers drumming the skin.
I can't help it.
I will never get over making everything such a big deal.
Just as the poet Limón sees joy in the world that surrounds her.
Try to see with new eyes the world around you.
Try to see the morning light.
The sound of a car driving through a street on the first rain.
The first sip of tea or coffee in the morning.
The warm shower on your body.
A new bloom in your yard,
In a park or in the store.
A love note.
A hug.
Each day build a foundation of joy.
The way you build a muscle.
Make your joy muscle strong.
Make all of these seemingly normal things in your life illuminated.
Your private road to joy.
Thank you for practicing with me today and taking this time for yourself.
Be well.
