Breathing

Things have been tense around my home-planet lately. The news, the bills, the everything. Last night I was particularly keyed-up. It was stuffy in our bedroom, so I opened the window behind the bed and passed out watching Dancing With the Stars.

I woke up around two in the morning to the sounds of night birds and crickets. Somehow, the idea that those birds and bugs would be doing that very same thing no matter what happened to me was oddly comforting. It made the struggles of my life seem small and ordinary. Nothing so big or bad that it would stop a bird from singing in the night. My heart expanded and I slept.