I am in the physical therapy room working on range of motion in my neck. “It’s gonna be slow-going,” the therapist says. And I am not surprised, for my neck is alarmingly restricted in its movements. But I like the therapist; he favors a gentle approach to healing.

Yesterday while I was lying on the table, he asked me to take a deep breath, hold it and then gently release it. I did this 3 times while he was working on my neck. Hmmm, I thought, I like this breath control thing.

I woke up in the middle of the night from a very emotional dream I was having. I remembered the breath exercise and did it. I felt light as a feather and was able to calm down a bit. I got up around daybreak and had some cereal, then went back to bed.

Darned if the dream didn’t seem to pick up right where it left off. I didn’t mind because when you are getting physical therapy, the emotions are being cleansed involuntarily.

Now I hear the garbage truck roaring down the street. It’s rainy and I am in for the day. I feel content, as I do whenever hope shows up to hang out with me. That leads to gratitude and who can’t use more of that?

Vicki Woodyard