What’s something you use that is so well-disguised in it’s indispensability that the second you perceive it, becomes impossible to ignore?

Something like, say, breathing.

Pumping columns of air into  diaphragm and out through nostrils in tiny flares.

into, out though . . . into, out though . . . into, out though.

If I’ve made you aware of your own breathing, I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.  But since you’re attention is already on it, go ahead and just take a deep breath.  Pull a mighty draft in.  Let your chest bellow with volume.  Make it audible.  Make it count.  To five.

In.                                                                                   Out.

It’s rich, isn’t it?  We cycle a whole day in reflexive, measured respiration.  But oh, what a feeling to take a deep breath.  It’s different.  It’s more.  It makes you notice how valuable this habit really is.

Everyone’s wheelhouse of routine contains something akin to a deep breath.  The hefty sheet of parchment for the rare handwritten letter.  The good china for  your parents’ dinner visit.  The Swingline from your paralegal days whenever the office stapler is being extra useless.

In my case, a fine necktie.