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Deep Breath In… Don’t Exhale

  • Writer: Paula T
    Paula T
  • Nov 4
  • 5 min read
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There’s something powerful in the act of simply breathing. We breathe to live, to speak, to walk through life without even thinking about it. It’s automatic. But what happens when you stop, take a deep breath in, and refuse to exhale?

 

I’m not talking about holding your breath until you can’t take it anymore. I’m talking about the practice of pausing, really pausing, in the chaos of life. Sometimes, we forget to stop and let the air fill our lungs, to let the stillness settle in our bones. But that moment of silence before you let go can be revolutionary. It’s a reset button—a split second of peace before you re-enter the fray of life.

 

When I think about the deep breaths I’ve taken since my life changed so drastically, I realize how much they’ve anchored me. My accident stole more than my physical abilities; it tried to steal my breath, my connection to my body, and my relationship with the world around me. But each deep breath became a quiet act of rebellion, a declaration that I would not let life take my ability to be present. To truly live.

 

In those moments when I felt overwhelmed by what had been lost or what was no longer possible, I would close my eyes, take a breath so deep that it seemed to fill every space within me, and hold it. I didn’t exhale right away because I wasn’t ready to let go of the strength I found in that breath. That stillness, for just a moment, was a lifeline.

 

Sometimes we think that moving forward means charging ahead, powering through, and never stopping. But real progress, real healing, isn’t always about running. It’s about sitting with what is, holding it, feeling it in your bones, and then deciding what to do with it. It’s about holding your breath long enough to understand that you don’t have to exhale right away. You have time. You have space to sit in that moment of stillness, to gather the strength you need, and then, when you’re ready, you can release it—bit by bit.

 

In my journey, I’ve learned that the exhale doesn’t always have to come immediately. Sometimes, holding your breath and allowing yourself to feel every ounce of what’s happening is where the real growth begins. It’s a reminder that our strength doesn’t always have to be loud and visible; sometimes, it’s in the quiet moments of stillness, in the deep breaths we take in silence.

 

So the next time life feels too big, too heavy, or too overwhelming, I encourage you to pause. Take that deep breath in. Feel it fill you up. Hold it for just a moment longer than usual. Don’t exhale. Not yet. Let that breath remind you that you are here, you are present, and you are strong enough to face whatever comes next.

 

And when you do exhale, let it be a release, not of fear, but of confidence. You’ve already held that strength. You’ve already carried it with you. Now, you’re ready to move forward, knowing that no matter what comes next, you’ve already found your anchor.

Deep breath in… don’t exhale. Not yet.

 

 

Deep Breath In… Don’t Exhale

 

A breath so deep, it fills my soul,

A quiet pause, a moment whole.

The world keeps moving, fast and loud,

But here I stand, inside this cloud.

 

I take it in, I hold it tight,

A fleeting stillness in the fight.

No rush to let the air escape,

Just breathing in, no need to break.

 

The weight is heavy, life is raw,

But in this breath, I feel no flaw.

Not yet, not yet—don’t let it go,

In this moment, I am whole.

 

The past is here, the future waits,

But I am anchored in this state.

A deep breath, and then, I pause,

Listening to my heart’s own cause.

 

I’ve been through fire, through the night,

But now, I find my inner light.

And in this breath, I am reborn,

A warrior, strong, no longer worn.

 

So here I stand, just holding on,

A breath to greet the coming dawn.

I won’t exhale just yet, not now,

For I have found my strength, somehow.

 

And when the time comes, soft and slow,

I’ll let it go, and let it flow.

But for this moment, I’ll remain,

In this deep breath, I heal the pain.

 

 

In this moment, I pause and feel,

The weight of the world, yet somehow, real.

A breath that anchors, still and wide,

A quiet place where truths collide.

 

I inhale deep, the air is sweet,

Filling spaces where fear used to meet.

I hold it close, I claim this time,

Not rushing forward, but just in line.

 

I’ve been broken, torn apart,

Yet this breath whispers to my heart.

Not a surrender, but a stand,

A quiet power, bold and grand.

 

The exhale can wait, I don’t need to speak,

For in this pause, I’m strong, not weak.

The world may rush, the world may shout,

But here, in stillness, I’m finding out.

 

This breath, this pause, is my release,

A sacred moment of inner peace.

It’s not the letting go, but the knowing,

That in this space, I am growing.

 

I’m not afraid to hold on tight,

To the air that brings me back to light.

Each breath I take is mine to own,

In this stillness, I am not alone.

 

So I take another, deep and slow,

Letting the silence help me grow.

And when the time comes, soft and free,

I’ll exhale, but only when I’m ready to be.

 

I hold the air, I hold my ground,

In silence, strength is where I’m found.

The world outside keeps spinning fast,

But here, within, I make it last.

 

The need to move, to run, to fight,

Can wait a moment—this feels right.

A breath that fills me, calm and deep,

A quiet promise that I’ll keep.

 

The noise is distant, far away,

In this stillness, I choose to stay.

Not letting go, not yet, not now,

I claim this breath, I claim this vow.

 

In the pause, I see the truth,

That healing comes in moments’ proof.

No need to rush, no need to flee,

This breath is all that’s left of me.

 

The weight of life can be a strain,

But in this moment, I’m not vain.

I am not broken, I am whole,

And in this air, I find my soul.

 

The exhale can come when I’m ready,

When I’m strong, when my heart is steady.

But until then, I’ll take this space,

A quiet refuge, a sacred place.

 

So I breathe it in, I feel it fill,

My body, mind, my spirit still.

And when I’m ready, I’ll let it go,

A silent exhale, soft and slow.

 

But not yet… I’m not done with this,

This breath, this moment, this gentle bliss.

I’ll hold it here, I’ll hold it tight,

And know within, I’ll be all right.

 

 

 

 
 
 

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