Three Breaths

I have been haunted for two weeks by lines I heard in a production, Letters Aloud – From the Front, hosted by the Clayton Opera House in the Thousand Islands, New York.  

In this production, Broadway actors read aloud authentic personal letters to and from service men and women who served in the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, WWI and WWII, Korea, Vietnam, and Afghanistan. Each voice springs to life and reaches across time with candid intimacy. Photographs projected onto a jumbo screen portray the settings or picture the soldier. In some readings, the original letter appears in the writer’s script, poignant and powerful. 

The narrative begins with boot camp, continues through battle, and concludes with the return home. Billed as thought-provoking, hopeful, and humorous, I also found the letters to be heart wrenching. You can imagine the variety of perspectives and situations described. Beyond the patriotic nature of the production, I sensed an underlying theme, the futility of war.  

At the time I never thought to make notes of the deep and moving messages. My memory is more adept at recalling the essence of a thing and not the particulars. However, I cannot shake from my head one specific passage. The gist of it is this: 

All I have is the breath I take. My last breath is the past. My next breath is the future. 

War reduced a young man’s life to three breaths.  

I ponder this passage every day. I turn it over and over in my mind, as if it is a secret code that I might decipher and when I succeed, I will have the meaning of life. Fourteen days of thought produced the following: 

1. Breathing is simple biology. Oxygen is our lifeline; if we fail to breathe, we expire.  

2. If we give our attention to each breath, our minds cannot hold anxiety and fear. All negativity falls away as we inhale and exhale.   

3. I try holding my breath, as if to stop time in the present, but I am unable to do it for long. I gasp for air, moving into the future. That’s how life works, the future coming to meet us and if we don’t step into it, we perish. 

4. Breathing is a metaphor for life. Like the breath we take, we only have the day at hand. The past is over, and the future lies beyond. 

5. Perhaps each series of three breaths represents our life in the scheme of the universe. Each day we take 20,000 breaths. How many lives does the universe witness at this pace?  

6. Maybe time is not linear. If I practice diaphragmatic breathing will each deep breath contain more life, so that breath by breath life feels longer?   

7. Breath is judged, from a sweet baby’s breath to a foul dog’s breath. Yet breath is neither good nor bad. It is useful, purposeful, and necessary. Perhaps we should model our lives after breath. 

8. Would a breath of sea air be preferred over mountain air? Fresh air is more invigorating than stagnant air. It’s logical to conclude that the quality of the air breathed correlates with quality of life.  

9. Perhaps air contains trace elements that science has not determined. How fortunate if we could inhale patience, compassion, and acceptance with every breath. 

10. A sticky note clings to my computer that says There is always a way forward. For the soldier and many others, the only way forward is the next breath. 

I’ve grappled with the meaning of the three breaths to no avail. I suspect that this riddle can only be solved through experience. For the present, I’m grateful to breathe.