Don't Forget to Breathe

This mantra of mine's been swirling around in my head lately, I said it to many friends this weekend too.

When I was in college, sitting at the pottery wheel, my professor Mike would say it to me all the time. He could see me, hunched over the spinning clay, jaw tight, fingers tense, trying to force something beautiful into being. “Breathe,” he’d laugh and say, in a calm but knowing tone. “You’re fighting it.”

He was right. I was gripping too hard - the clay, the wheel, the outcome. All my energy was trapped between my fingers instead of flowing through them.

I realize I’ve done that same thing with life. Trying to mold things into place before they’re ready. Forgetting to exhale. Forgetting to trust the rhythm and rotation of the wheel beneath me, the same wheel that turns whether I’m in control or not. That mantra has stayed tucked in my back pocket ever since.

Don’t forget to breathe. 

Sometimes it shows up as a gentle whisper, a friend’s kind word, an inspired conversation, or a song lyric that hits just right. Other times, it’s a full-blown kick in the ass from the universe. (I may be sweet, but a mouthy Italian from Long Island, those hit hard too)

The thing is, the breath is where the flow begins. When we slow down enough to inhale, we reconnect to spirit. When we exhale, we release the grip and make space for guidance to move through us.

For me one of the most powerful ways I reconnect is through music. When I listen, *really listen*, I feel my breath fall into sync with the rhythm. When I dance, I let the music move me. I stop thinking and start feeling. My body, my breath, my heartbeat, they all fall into time. The music becomes my guide, my grounding, my reminder that the only way to flow… is to breathe.

When I tune into that rhythm, truly breathe, trust, and let go, I find myself surrounded by the right people, in all the right places. Doors open. Opportunities align. Life hums along in perfect time.

This past weekend was a beautiful reminder of that. Widespread Panic in Milwaukee, three nights of music therapy. My sacred place to dance it out, shake my bones, get soul-cleansed, and be surrounded by my Panic Family. Some I’ve known for years, some I just met (yay!) we’re all there for the same reason. To breathe. To flow. To remember how to feel alive again.

You can’t dance it out without breathing — it’s impossible. That’s the rhythm of it all. Breath in, breath out. Beat by beat, song by song. We got this. I just know it.

So today, if you’re gripping too tightly to a project, a dream, a relationship, or even your own healing, here's your reminder: unclench your jaw, drop your shoulders, and just… breathe.

You’re not falling behind. You’re just being centered again.

Don’t forget to breathe.